Woes Of A Hero
by Raihannn
Summary: Alfred is eighteen years old and rebelling against his pops, damn it, he has the urge to fight for independence now no matter how silly it seems. Running out of the house after an argument lead him from one fit to another and meeting a mysterious Russian named Ivan he found himself drawn to after being rescued... [RusAme, and FACE family inside!]
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi! Attention to all the readers!**_

 _ **So this is a RusAme based work and this is my first time writing around this pairing. I should make a note that I don't know what America is like, hell, I've watched so many TV shows and movies with enough American backgrounds in hope that I was able to sort of send a well, but slightly vague descriptions of the country as the setting in this fic. Vague because I want to focus more on the plot and this plot centers around Alfred, a teenager rebelling against his pops, Arthur. Alfred is a troublemaker, nuff said and Arthur doesn't like it.**_

 _ **-Alfred calls Arthur 'pops' because I really think it's cute, it's like something little Alfred will pick up from some show and still keep because it's adorable that way.**_

 ** _-In this fic, Alfred and Matthew are siblings and adopted by the Kirkland-Bonnefoy pair. But Matthew instead calls Arthur dad. Francis? The siblings call him papa. It's cute. And it'll be mentioned in later chapters that Alfred still keeps his full name of Alfred F. Jones. _**

**_-Alfred is friends with Gilbert and Matthias, and that's the Awesome Trio right there because I rarely see the three in any of the fics I've been engrossed in on this site._**

 ** _-Matthew is paired with Carlos, that's one of the suggested names for APH Cuba, in this fic._**

 ** _-This fic will deal with complicated feelings, mentions of attempted rape (only in this first chapter), assault between Alfred and Ivan in the initial stage of their relationship forming. That's a PSA right there._**

 ** _-I think that's it? Oh, yeah, my style of update will be a strange one. I'm uploading FIVE WHOLE CHAPTERS of this story first before the rest will be uploaded. I much prefer bundling everything up first to be send right after. Last but not least, enjoy. All these characters belong to Himaruya Hidekazu and only Himaruya!_**

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It was loud, pricking and sending a tinge of annoyance growing every second. With a growl, Alfred shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and it pulled down the hood over his tousled blond hair.

"Wait—where do you think you're going?!"

Alfred peered ever so slightly over his shoulders. "I haven't finished talking!" He heard Arthur saying, and he scoffed. "I'm finished listening."

Within a heartbeat, the young man had kicked the door open and stepped out into the blazing, hot day. The sunlight shone over his hunched back and Arthur was left staring; just as he was about to call after him, he heard Francis sighing. He turned to him.

"Just let him be, Arthur." He said.

"Francis," Arthur pressed the bridge of his nose and took a deep, shaking breath. "Francis, _Francis_ , in God's name, how much longer must you pamper the boy like that?! I've had enough of this ridiculous trouble he's putting me through! The trouble he calls 'heroic' only serving to grow my headache!"

Francis stared back at his husband and a frown marred his features. He glanced to Matthew, silenced and staring down at his untouched plate of the late, sombre breakfast. Before either two could reply each other, Matthew stood up and muttered a quiet, " _Excuse me_ ," and Francis could only watch the boy stumbling and walking away from the table. The echoes of footsteps filled the silence looming between Arthur and Francis, then the door was heard slammed shut.

* * *

XXX

* * *

 _Hello hurricane,_

 _You're not enough._

Arthur was the hurricane and Alfred hated his guts (at the moment, at least.)

 _Hello hurricane,_

 _You can't silence my love._

Alfred was sick and tired of Arthur; everything about that man's complaints and accusations, the young man was exasperated from all of it. His eyes snapped shut for a second and he inhaled deeply to remind himself that he was out of that blasted house and he did not need to think about anything anymore.

Out here on these streets, there was no Arthur. There was simply the pavement he occasionally glanced down at as his feet carried him along. There wasn't a trace of Arthur's voice, but the steel fences to his side that Alfred let his fingers graze along and producing a light crinkling melody tracing his footsteps. It ended soon when he crossed the street.

Almost there, where there's no Arthur and Alfred let his mind wander to escape all the anger that was boiling inside of him.

He was nearing his destination. There was no Arthur, but simply an old skating park blasting with laughter, chatters. The tiny screeching of the wheels across the curved ramps, the hop of a flip landed with much vigor and a smile stretched on Alfred's lips. He was free and it lifted his spirits, he tugged off his headset and began to jog towards the familiar faces already looking his way.

"Gil, Matthias!" The two were waving at him and Alfred quickened his pace. "Glad to see you two again!"

Gilbert merely chuckled. "The hell, Alfred? We just met few days ago, you act as if we haven't seen each other in years!"

"Ah, well," Alfred shrugged. The span of time between their last meeting and today seemed to stretch further than he could recall. The stress of school and Arthur plagued his mind enough for him to lose his grasp on time. "Been caught up with a shit ton of work, it sucks."

He saw Gilbert and Matthias giving each other a knowing look and Alfred was jealous. The two were several years older than him, and they were free from the clutches school and responsibilities unlike him. Matthias gave a slight wink and reached out to ruffle the messy blond locks on Alfred's hair and it hung over his left eye safe for the permanent cow lick that never failed to remain standing. "Sounds rough, but you know that it'll all be over soon, don't ya?" He heard Matthias saying.

"High school is shit for generally everyone but we can always have fun in our own ways!"

 _Yeah?_ Alfred tore his eyes away and his gaze landed on the ground. He could only wish—the only fun he was able to have at school was fighting back the random fights initiated to prove his heroic quality that all seemed to frown upon. _They just don't get it._

A loud thump halts his train of thoughts and his glance wandered up to see Gilbert resting his foot on the deck of the skateboard. In one swift movement, his heel kicked the edge and the board jumped up enough for the German to snatch in his hand with a firm grip. He was grinning from ear to ear. "Enough talk about school, you of all people wouldn't want to think jack shit of it anymore, don't ya? Here," he said and stretched his arm out to hand it over to Alfred who received it with a thankful smile pressed to his lips.

He always let Gilbert keep their skateboards, the albino worked at a skateboard shop just a couple of blocks away from this park and the owner never minded about the best and awesome (or so he claims so himself) worker in the place to do this as a favour for his friend. Better than nothing, Arthur seemed to always hate hearing, even the mention of how Alfred spent his day 'loitering' at the 'dumb' park.

Alfred decided to not let these thoughts form, he didn't come here to stay angry, he wanted to skate and he wanted to have fun. Gilbert seemed to be waiting for him while Matthias had long skated up ahead of them, glancing back to the two beginning to catch up to him with a large smile.

That's it, have fun and enjoy the day. It's hot, Alfred was sweating but it didn't matter. The momentum of the ride grew as he was dipping further to reach the curved ramps.

Forget about everything, he's going to have a blast today together with Gilbert and Matthias!

The sun continued to blaze, the wind was breezing albeit only occasionally. Alfred had been beaming with pride, over the several amount of times he'd successfully attempted the flips and landed hard, with triumph on his board. The adrenaline sent a wave shock all over his body, joy was surging through and he didn't want it to end. So the young man let it drove him, he began steering to the edge of the park and jumped onto the sidewalk. He propelled himself further and narrowly avoided an innocent passer-by who stumbled back, a surprised look on their face that Alfred managed to catch a glimpse of.

"Hey, Alfred!" He heard Gilbert calling, he heard the familiar dragging sounds and knew the two were following behind. Matthias spoke next, curiosity laced in his voice. "Where do you think you're going! We just left the park!"

Alfred wasn't sure, he didn't want to stop and quickly glanced over to them with a broad grin. "Let's just skate all over the entire town, whatever, dudes!"

The trio was about to leave this side of the town, instead. There weren't many cars but enough that the three of them skated past in a flurry, prompting the number of drivers to honk at them in a flash of anger. Alfred lost count how many they had pissed off, they just continued their merry way down every sidewalk they stumbled upon from crossing the streets and manoeuvring after the innocent, unsuspecting civilians going about their daily routine until of course, these three brats with huge grin plastered on their faces were skating right down their path and they could be heard laughing.

They found themselves exhausted but still smiling. They were leaned up against a store at the very corner of a turn, an abandoned store. It's darkening red brick walls old of age, the large window stained with dust allowed only so less of a clear view of the inside lined with old shelves and tables, they weren't sure what kind of shop this was but it had been closed for years. Alfred, Gilbert, and Matthias were simply taking shelter outside of it under the setting sun beautifully dousing the sky with a splash of orange, a tint of pink scattered, and it was warm.

Gilbert was talking about his brother, Ludwig. Alfred was pretty fond of this Ludwig, from how Gilbert described his younger brother, he sounded like a very admirable man with amazing qualities. Hardworking, strong, focused, serious, very much the opposite of Gilbert and both Matthias, Alfred, snickered at the contrast apparent between the two.

In Matthias's case, there is this one fella often intruding his mind. "Norwegian, around my age I think? He seemed to be, but he seemed to be more pretty instead," he admitted with a faint blush tracing his cheeks and Gilbert raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner with the smirk curled on his lips.

"What now, king of the north falling for some pretty boy?" Matthias blushed even harder at that, though he laughed it off.

"I won't deny that. He really is pretty, he's so pretty! But I think he hates my guts. He always looks at me with this look whenever I try to crack a joke just to find an excuse to talk to him… _Det er sgu rigtigt._ " He sighed, and looking closely, a glimmer of longing reflected in his eyes.

"Who says romance is dead," Gilbert chuckled and gave a pat to the Dane's shoulder that stumbled him forward and he looked back with a small pout.

Alfred was only smiling through all this, and a small hint of envy sparked. How nice, Gilbert had his incredible brother who's just a perfect model of society and Matthias trying to woo whoever this Norwegian is at his workplace, (which Alfred noticed was odd; that self-proclaimed king of north works at a DVD store and from his story, this Norwegian seemed to always be there— _there's definitely something going on, alright!_ )

They talked about anything they could think of, ranging from topics of their days at work, Alfred and his small complaints of the jerks at his high school trying to pick more fights with him, the piling homework threatening to swallow him as it almost towers over the young man! At eighteen years old, he feels like he's a very under-appreciated hero battling homework, bullies, and a protesting father.

The day was darkening and Matthias told them it was about time he needed to leave. "Alfred," he smiled at the young man. "Today was fun, thanks for deciding to lead through one hell of a detour!" The tall blond grinned at Gilbert next who gave him another pat to his shoulder. They bade farewell for the night to him and he had begun walking away.

Alfred watched his retreating form until he heard Gilbert muttering under his breath and he turned to see the other looking down at the screen of his phone, the brightness flashing at his pale face and Alfred approached him. "Guess I'll be seeing ya again sometime soon, dude?"

Gilbert looked up, instantly putting back his phone into his pocket and returned the smile. "Of course you will, how could you go your entire week without my awesomeness?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I had fun today with ya and Matthias. Thanks a bunch, and have a good night!"

And, now he's watching Gilbert leaving with the skateboards to be kept as routine promised. Alfred noticed how dark it had gotten and he yanked his arm forward to reveal the wristwatch, glancing at the time it showed that it was well nearing seven o' clock. The young man better be making his way back now and put back on his headset. The music blared from his phone and he eased into the music as he took one final look at this old, abandoned shop they just hung outside and flashed a small smile at it. As if saying thank you for letting the three of them stay here while the hours lasted.

Alfred hummed to the melody of the song and passed by several places appeared close earlier but now lights were flashing, blinking and it hit the young American, _ah, night bars._ It would be a lie to say he never tried alcohol, he has and that's the last thing he wanted Arthur to find out or else the yelling, the punishment would probably drop to a severe stage and not even Alfred wanted to find out the state of it. He much rather be scolded at with his current behaviour or as that oh so-gentleman Arthur would call it a rebellion phase. What a joke!

He was simply tired of how frustrating his pops had begun to act, the disappointment and disapprovals were too much. Alfred had always been as best as he could and as heroic as he can be in school, hell, since stepping foot into kindergarten he had always dreamed of coming on top as the bold hero. The hero that taught bullies their lessons and that's the thing right there; bullies seemed to always appear in every corner and growing dauntingly towards the young boy with bright blue eyes who grew to fight continuously against them to the point of making a name for himself all the way until high school. The incidents were never too big but it got to his pops' ears and Alfred guessed that's where it begun. The man thought of his actions as immature, improper, " _There's no such thing as being a hero by hitting people,_ " he could remember him saying, a lace of fury in the voice that sparked the nerve inside of Alfred to fight back. Was Arthur even aware that the same people he had fought against done things worse than he ever did?

" _ **Hey, kid.**_ "

The music that played wasn't loud enough, he could still hear the cars and low chatters—he sure as hell heard that deep, hoarse voice and Alfred turned his head to the right, eyes landing at an empty alley. Dark, and he could spot the outline of a man approaching. He raised an eyebrow and pulled one of his earphone out. "…is there something wrong, dude?" He asked, and took a step back.

The man was getting closer and some light shone on his face. Alfred captured every detail. Short black hair, brown eyes. He wore a flashy, purple suit… which would have weirded Alfred out but the echoes of music beats made him know that this man must have come out of some nightclub or something, and he didn't like the way this man smiled.

"I saw you walking and I thought I'd ask, why don't you come and have fun with us?"

 _Us? Who's us—oh._

Behind the man, were three more approaching and Alfred gulped. This wasn't anything like he'd encountered before, these men were looking at him with eyes that studied every angle of his body and Alfred didn't like it. His chest was thumping and he shook his head, "No thanks. I've had plenty of fun today and I gotta go now."

 _That's right, I'll just turn back around and walk away._

Except, his arm was gripped and Alfred gasped. The grip was too tight and he was being pulled by smiling-man-number-one against him. Their faces were so close and Alfred stared with wide eyes, this guy was now holding his waist and he was stunned. _This isn't like anything I've encountered before. And I don't know what to do, damn it!_

"Come on now, we'll just have a little fun…" As the man said that, he leaned his face close and trailed his lips down Alfred's neck, who shivered in disgust.

"K- Knock it off and let me go, now." He cursed himself for stuttering and trembling like a leaf, and he squirmed in the man's hold. His heart was racing faster and he writhed, "I said let me go!"

But the man responded with a chuckle together with the three others.

"This isn't fucking funny, let me go!"

It all happened too quick. He was being pulled by the man into the alley and pain shot in his head, face, as he was pressed—rather, shoved against roughly to the wall. His cheek must be being scraped, struggling in this man's hold proved no change until what stopped Alfred from moving an inch was feeling a hand slipping down into his trousers, and his heart was sinking. It's as if an anchor tied itself around his gut and was pulling him into a drain of fear beginning to cloud his mind that might be the cause of his vision going blurry. Hot tears were spilling, his body shaking strenuously; he didn't _like_ , he _hated_ how afraid he felt, the cold, icy hand of this sick man gripping his thigh dangerously close to his groin and poor Alfred couldn't hear whatever the other was whispering. All he heard was a very, very loud ringing sound in his ears.

This was it, the ring of death to tune out the reality sinking in; he'll be gang-raped in an alley and probably left to die here. Alfred was beginning to feel more than one hand grabbing his arm, feeling his abdomen, how could he escape from this situation?

His body mustered every strength and with a jolt, he hit the back of his head against the man behind him who then loosened the hold and Alfred flailed his arms in the air, feeling it coming into contact hardly against the faces of the men who were grabbing him and he felt like he could win this. However, the victory was short-lived when the same man he pushed off was quick to slam Alfred back at the same spot and his actions halted when his lips were captured forcefully.

It tasted like liquor, it tasted like nicotine. It was disgusting, and Alfred whimpered and tried to pull away, only to be forced even further into the kiss.

Time seemed to stopped and reality put to a halt for a fraction of a second.

When suddenly, it felt like a heavy weight was pried of off Alfred. The feeling of the horrible kiss disappeared, and brightness sunk into the previously dark alley. Alfred, shaking tremendously, remained standing with wide eyes as the scene unfolded before him and he wasn't able to register anything at the moment.

Those men who attempted to rape him was being beaten down swiftly by this group of people who dressed neatly in suits.

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XXX


	2. Chapter 2

The door to the car opened and Ivan stared with a heavy, worried-some glance towards the young man whose eyes were opened wide. He was still shaking, Ivan watched him sitting down across him. The two men who lead him in had to hunch over before stepping out of the vehicle and retreating to the cars parked behind the black plated SUV limousine that soon they trailed after when they began moving.

Ivan fidgeted with the end of his scarf, the soft material being clenched into the nervous hold of his gloved hands. "Boy… are you alright?" He asked, his voice laced with his thick Russian accent and carried a gentle tone towards the young man.

"Boy?" Ivan continued watching him. What should he do? _Oh, oh, oh, what can I do?!_ His silver blond locks bounced as he slowly rose to his feet and stumbled forward, albeit slightly as he was able to catch his balance and staggered to sit beside the boy with blue eyes who was hugging his form with his shaking arms.

Ivan could see his shoulders rising up and down slowly, Ivan could hear the air passing the lips being inhaled, exhaled, inhaled and exhaled in a loop. A crawling loop.

"T- That's it, breathe in and out!" Ivan gleamed and clasped his hands together. "Just relax because you are alright now. I saved you and you are not in danger, da?"

He observed him for another minute and without thinking further, Ivan reached a hand out and placed it on the boy's shoulder. "Relax, relax, you are okay and you are safe," _this is it,_ he thought. Ivan couldn't fight the smile creeping on his lips. _I get to make a new friend now that I saved him!_

"ARGH!"

Or so Ivan thought, as he was proven wrong when the boy jerked from his touch and his head whipped to meet his blue eyes with Ivan's own violet eyes glimmering with confusion and worry that contrasted the fear in Alfred's gaze.

The Russian panicked and held up his hands. "No, no, do not worry! You are safe! You do not have to be scared, I saved you!"

It was silent and the two held their gazes at each other for what seemed to pass within their heartbeats. Ivan didn't steer away and instead he scooted closer just as Alfred slowly, with much effort, pushed himself back up on the seat.

Alfred was almost heaving, he was swallowing dry air and sweat trickled his forehead. _Safe_ , as this Russian man kept pressing which seemed highly unlikely considering he was in this guy's car being taken to God knows where after 'saving' him from a failed gang-rape attack the young man almost had to go through before the 'saving' happened. Alfred clenched his jaw and dragged himself away from the Russian still approaching which ultimately sent signals to the American still shaken up.

"S- Stay away, just, stay where you are, whoever you are, dude." But Ivan continued smiling, too innocently that the appearance struck Alfred how childlike this man is. He was seen cocking his head and a split realization dawn on his features.

"Oh! My name is Ivan, it is nice to meet you, boy! You are safe now!"

"…"

He scrambled back further and found his back against the soft coated partition. The fact that he's in some type of a limousine wasn't one-bit comforting and the heels of his sneakers dug into the leather covered seats as the foolish Alfred tried again to press himself away. And he was questioning so many things;

1. _Why did a group of men lead by a Russian save me from the failed gang-rape?_

2 _.Why is the same Russian who keeps repeating 'you're safe!' with a smile wearing a scarf, especially a scarf in this time of the year?_

3 _.The scarf looks really thick._

Alfred found himself staring into those eyes, however. That almost appeared to reflect the Russian's smile. He was staring far longer than he intended to, a tiny part in his mind trying to search for anything else shining but he only found joy. Excitement danced together with it.

4. _Those eyes are pretty._

His mind paused when he saw Ivan once again approaching and holding his hand out which prompted him to act almost immediately. "I said _STAY AWAY!_ "

His left foot was lunged towards Ivan's face with every strength he could draw and his hands clenched into the side and bottom cushion of the seat for balance after the kick almost threw him off. It definitely threw off Ivan in mere seconds to the floor of the limousine and the vehicle came to a screeching stop.

Suddenly, Alfred felt his heart sinking and he wasn't given a second to realize that his very actions had very dire consequences when the door opened. A flow of chatter could be heard and it was in a foreign language, Alfred watched Ivan stirring to his knees and being helped out. It was his turn next but it wasn't any help. His arms were grabbed in such a strong hold that it pried the young American off of the seat, leaving him no chance to grab on to something to stop them from pulling him.

Two different men this time carried Alfred out and tossed him to the ground, he yelped. One of them approached and stepped on his back with force which pressed his abdomen against the rough pavement that had the young man cough out from the pain beginning to spring up.

"H- Hey now! Let go of me!" He exclaimed, though, the respond he received was feeling the sole of the shoe pressed down further. Alfred was stumped, gasping as he was feeling his ribs against his skin and the pain was burning him. The air in his lungs seemingly emptying out because he had no room to breathe, tears welled in his eyes until the force from his back lessened.

Alfred was coughing, scrambling to prop himself up with a pair of shaky arms. He inhaled deeply, hurriedly, but he was forced to stop when a hand gripped a fistful of his blond strands and yanked his head back. In mere seconds, a punch connected with his gut.

It didn't stop, the man continuously punched the young man being held up by the colleague behind him. He observed those ocean blue eyes after every hit, flooding with endless stream of tears and blood begin to pour out of the edge of his lips.

"Friend, stop!" Ivan had trudged over and halted him from punching any more, a smile on his features.

"I think the boy has had enough, but personally," he grimaced at the sight of blood he saw as he approached Alfred, being held up still and poor Alfred looked awful. The blood and tears were never a tasteful imagery for the Russian whose lips curled into a pout. "Personally, I would have liked to be the one to punish him for earlier… we don't want children who can't play nice, do we? But the boy was just afraid!"

His leather-bound gloved hands travelled to the young man's cheeks, the tip of his fingers grazing the feature almost delicately before Ivan cupped his face. His thumbs begin brushing away the tears and Ivan felt happy, really happy that the boy this time didn't try to pull away!

"He was just scared after I saved him from those naughty men. He was just scared and kicked me in the face, it hurts but I am alright." In fact, the kick pales into comparison of what those men in the alley almost tried to do to the poor boy here with blue eyes so bright, and beautiful, Ivan couldn't deny the smile on his lips stretching into a grin.

What he couldn't deny either, is leaning his face closer and pressing a feathery kiss above the young man's eyelid. Ivan could almost taste the salty tear as he pulled back and watched the expression on his face change to a tint of confusion.

"I think that is enough for tonight, comrades. I also think we should send him home!" Though, Ivan didn't want to part from his new friend just yet. So the Russian grabbed the privilege presented to carry this new friend in his arms as he retreated into his ride. His men behind him did not utter a single word; they all followed Ivan's wishes without a question and soon returned to their cars.

Ivan didn't let Alfred go, Ivan still held on to Alfred like a doll in his laps and Alfred was in a state of drifting in and out between his consciousness. His eyes were threatening to close, his head swirled and his vision plastered on the gentle smile at the Russian's lips—the very same lips that kissed him earlier and Alfred wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Everything about this Ivan at this moment was strange, what did he mean by _not wanting children who can't play nice_? Alfred hated that statement, he wasn't a child. He was a God damn grown up, he's eight-damn-teen years old and he did not appreciate the treatment specially for a child from this strange Russian man. In fact, Ivan was more childlike that Alfred is!

Alfred could hear him talking, his words were blurred at first and he stared at Ivan to try and make sense of what he's saying. All he could hear, " _Your house,_ " " _Where,_ " and Alfred was left clutching weakly at Ivan's scarf. It was thick, why is he wearing a scarf in this time of the year?

Knocking back into Ivan's continuous stream of questions, Alfred began murmuring the state of the house he lives in with his parents. Arthur was the strict father, Francis was the kind and best cook of a father, Matthew was the hardworking and smart child in the family. Their house was a nice bungalow, two stories. All the windows were decorated with curtains in different shades of blue because Francis admired the colour that mixed well with the soft, cream tone of the walls outside their house. It was warm inside, and always smelled like a mix of deliciously cooked food and a scent of bakery goods because Francis and Matthew loved baking together. On rainy days, the weather was perfect for Arthur to read whilst in his favourite reading chair that was right beside the sliding door showing the view of their backyard. The rain always reminded Alfred of Arthur, Francis remarked once to his husband how the weather awfully suits his mind works at times.

Ivan was chuckling, and Alfred didn't even realize he had been rambling all this while. "No, no, I was asking where you live, boy!"

 _Oh._

"The park… the street with the name of a park and a leaf… the street number nineteen, house number forty-seven…" What was the name of the street his neighbourhood is at? Alfred couldn't recall, the strong, warm hold of Ivan's arms were somewhat lulling him to sleep. It didn't, however, stifle the pain in his abdomen from being punched countless of times and occasionally, the blond led out a groan and shifted in Ivan's hold.

The pain, the exhaustion, the dull recollection of the failed gang-rape attempt buzzed in Alfred's mind but the only thing apparent, standing out against everything else were those set of violet eyes and the childlike smile, the soft kiss and the strong, protective hold.

Everything was turning to black, he felt the force of sleep consuming his mind. Alfred wanted to fight and keep his eyes open, but it was overwhelming and he had no chance of victory against it. So he let his eyelids slip down, he let himself bury his face into the warmth of Ivan's chest, he didn't let go of his scarf and those were the final things he is aware of before he lost himself in the hold of slumber.

* * *

XXX

* * *

 _ **Boy that was a short one. Here come dat Russian boi.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur's worried eyes were the first thing he registered when he slowly came to. Then, he turned his head slowly and saw his brother, Matthew, lighting up with surprise and a hint of relief.

" _Alfred!_ " Matthew's voice at first was soft-sounding and Alfred was enveloped into an embrace from the blond who wrapped his arms around Alfred's shoulders. "God, Alfred, we were all so worried for you," he said and Alfred slowly returned the hug.

Soon enough, Francis who was beside Matthew had joined the hug but Alfred's gaze remained on Arthur at the doorway.

"…good heavens, are you only good at making me and the rest of us worried for you?" Arthur began walking over and sat on the opposite side of the bed. He rested a hand on Alfred's head and sighed, as his fingers slid down to the patch of gauze pasted to the young man's cheek.

"You were unconscious the entire night," he began and edged closer. "We were lucky that the family next door whose son was a nurse helped to treat you at one bloody AM. After your friend dropped you off, he assured us you were alright save for the wound on the cheek but we weren't convinced when he said you were almost jumped at. We would expect broken bones or anything but by God's grace, the man treating you found nothing of the sort. There was no option to drive to the clinic when our car hasn't been send to repair _yet,_ " Alfred saw his father directing a glare towards Francis who was now sitting and he in return responded with a sheepish smile.

"Just… what did I tell you about not coming back home late? I knew you went to the dumb park but to spend an entire night? What were you thinking?" His voice was slowing to rise and Alfred visibly flinched.

"Arthur," Francis called. The smile disappeared from his lips and his gaze was planted hard on his husband. " _Not now_. Let the boy rest, I've called the school and informed them of this. We'll settle everything else later while we let him rest. Isn't that what we agreed on, _cher_?"

Alfred couldn't thank his papa enough when they left the room safe for Matthew who was still beside him. He didn't want to deal with any talks or yells or questions from his pops at the moment and once the door clicked shut, he turned to Matthew as he rested his arm over his abdomen—God, it was numb with pain and he groaned albeit only a little.

Matthew cut to it before Alfred could say anything else. "I'm surprised papa and dad didn't question anything about… you know; about what your _friend_ told us. Almost jumped at? What exactly happened?"

He swallowed and looked away. Even Alfred found it difficult to piece everything together from the moment he was about to head home, the attack, the saving, another attack, and the awkward, blush-inducing moment he spent being cradled in Ivan's arms that he remembered felt so warm… Alfred shook his head and cleared his throat. His gaze darted back to his brother.

"Okay, dude, just, don't freak out—"

"Your eating habit is what freaks me out, Alfred."

He pouted. "Just listen and promise to not freak out. You can't freak out!"

"Oh my God," Matthew rolled his eyes and grabbed his brother's hand with a look of exasperation dawning. "Just, hurry and tell me. I won't freak out, I promise. I'm worried, and I want to know."

 _Okay, here goes._

Alfred held Matthew's hand in return, almost clenching his palm as he breathed in and out. Suddenly the bed sheet his eyes were glued on is the most interesting thing he found himself to stare at. "What Ivan said wasn't far from the truth, I was…"

 _Almost raped, rescued, but I suddenly kicked my rescuer because he was smiling and approaching when we were in his car. His 'friends' pulled me out and started to punch me because I think his friends were offended from a mile away that I kicked Ivan until Ivan stopped them and I couldn't hear what he was saying, only a little because I was in and out of death or sleep or I don't even know, Matthew, he kissed me on the forehead, I think, and next thing I knew was Ivan carrying me in his arms like I'm some bride and I spent the entire ride home sitting in his laps. And I actually don't mind it because he was so warm, his hold was so strong- STOP._

Matthew stared with his eyes squinted. "You were…?" It was strange to see his brother silent, as if in a deep state of endless thoughts which would be the biggest surprise of the century considering Alfred Frederick Jones never did a single form of thinking in his entire life before munching down on a mega-jumbo sized beef hamburger. Matthew noticed how red his face was turning. "Alfred? Alfred, wait, what's wrong—you didn't say anything except about Ivan, is he the one who carried you back inside the house? And why is your face so red?"

 _BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP MYSELF FROM THINKING ABOUT HOW STRANGE IVAN IS AND HOW PRETTY HIS EYES ARE._

"It's a little hot in here! And yes, the dude, Ivan, he was the one who saved me with his friends after this group of guys almost raped me—"

"A group of guys almost did _what_ to you?"

Alfred's gaze lagged to Matthew, who stared in shock and horror began to form in his expression. Alfred added quickly, "Please, don't tell pops. Because I'm fine, I promise I am, Mattie."

Matthew was shaking his head, "Like hell you are!" and Alfred was taken aback. This is one of those moments where his brother had every reason to raise his voice and this moment calls for it. Alfred knew how serious this is, but he can't help but to press further, "I'm _fine._ "

The two locked eyes with each other, his brother's eyes washed with worry and doubt but Alfred looked determined. "I—"

" _Matthieu!_ "

The siblings darted their head towards the door when their seconds of silence was pierced by the call. Matthew resigned and released a sigh. "…I have to go to school now," he said and Alfred watched him stand up. Alfred still caught the worry etched in his face. " _But_ , we'll talk later."

"…Have a good day at school," Alfred managed to say and saw his brother looking back with a small smile.

Alfred collapsed into his bed when he heard his brother leaving, and closed his eyes. He had to give credit to his brother for agreeing—sort of—to not mention this to either papa or pops, or else they'll just, _die_ on the spot. Not literally, figuratively speaking when hearing their son was almost raped. Alfred understood how utterly despicable the attempt was at him, but he was _fine._ He couldn't be more thankful to pure chance alone that Ivan stepped in; well, more like, his men that stepped in and not he himself as much as he liked to admit it over and over again to the young man without stop.

He was fine, but he won't lie that it had been a terrible experience. It was horrifying, and it served as a reminder to the young American to not venture alone down the street of pubs, bars, clubs all in one spot. And with integrity, admit to himself that he wasn't strong enough to fight everything.

Which is why Alfred was determined to grow stronger than this point he's at. Double the time he spends exercising, double the time he spends training with Gilbert—that man is incredibly strong and Alfred, much hating to confess, had never been able to take him down yet. That German is just insane and moves fast, it made Alfred's determination increase. He'll train, train, train, and beat Gilbert.

His fists clenched, he shot straight up with his hands flown upwards, "I'm going to be the hero!"

Suddenly the door swung open and Alfred stared with his arms in the air at pops who was standing there holding a tray in his hand.

"…A hero like you needs to rest. What saving can you do when you're stuck in bed?"

* * *

XXX

* * *

The clock was tormenting him with every tick to each small individual dots. 1... 2… 3… 4… 5... It stood on the dresser beside his bed and Alfred tore his eyes away as he rolled to his side with a yawn, and a short growl because the muscles in his abdomen hurt. The pain matched to that of horrible cramps that you'd experience from the shock your muscles absorbed all at once whilst all the pain sensory were overwhelmed with punch, after punch, and the young man found himself curling up slowly beneath the sheets.

Francis earlier had let the neighbour next door who was the nurse into the house to check up on Alfred and when he asked, "Don't ya have anything that can help with this?" as he pointed to the bruises on his belly. The nurse gave him a tube of this ointment, supposedly deep-heat that could help relieving any sort of muscle pain and for the first few hours it did.

The entire day, he attempted various things ranging from light exercises for his arms and light stretches for his upper body. He always liked stretching, it felt refreshing and satisfying. On this occasion however, he tried not to do much that'll hurt him or anything like that but… who was he to easily stop himself like that? Alfred managed to perform push ups over ten times before his abdomen screamed to stop—that was good, wasn't it? He lifted the dumbbells he possessed and passed twenty lifts before his abdomen screamed to stop—as long as he's able to without pushing past the restrictions, he might as well. The young man with blue eyes so bright can't simply sit idly in his room. That's just… _boring._ He was able exercise a little, and he was able complete his homework that seemed to call to him on the desk. Alfred had done as much as he was capable of to spend his day in his room and finally he hit the showers.

The warm water was simply relaxing for the young man and he spent much longer than planned under the water before quickly washing himself up and stepping out to get dry, and dressed after applying the ointment. He cringed when he saw himself in the mirror, those bruises were just so… it was like paint splashed his body and the colours weren't the best of all. It was dark, a displeasing view, they were irregular spots in several sizes splattered on his front body. Alfred pried his eyes away after finishing applying it, hurrying to put on his t-shirt he snatched from his closet.

Alfred made his way downstairs and spotted Arthur and Francis at the dining table they were setting up with dinner and the main door opened to reveal Matthew who had just return. All eyes then were on him as reached the bottom of the stairs, he chirped with a smile. "I'm fine, remember the cream the nurse gave me, pa? Say thanks again to the dude, it's actually helping!"

He saw Francis smile as he placed down the plate. "Oui, I will, and I'm glad you're feeling better but you must still rest!" Francis chuckled and watched Alfred approached the dining table. Arthur didn't say anything until Matthew closed the door.

"After dinner, sleep early. Alright? I want you to rest and get better."

* * *

XXX

* * *

His eyes glued to the field basked in the sunlight, the grasses short and trimmed and beginning to flood with the presence of figures; morning activities for the jocks it seems? It was only well over ten-thirty o' clock and Alfred couldn't make himself pay attention to the teacher speaking animatedly with his hands. Talking something about the history of an artist… the artist had problems and Alfred had tuned out, favouring more the sight with the people on it beside their school building.

It was like a fleeting experience, that night of the assault and the rescue. How could something so terrifying be outshined with something so beautiful? Ivan's eyes _are_ beautiful, those sets of gems sparkling like amethysts never failed to leave Alfred's mind. It was so gentle, so childlike, alluring in a sort of a way that brought the young man filled with curiosity. Ivan's mere presence and warmth had melted away the event prior to his appearance—and Alfred never found himself returning home late from any occasion weeks after that.

But a question lingered in his mind, would he see Ivan again? What if he went back to that same place, at that side of the town just to appease his curiosity which burned his mind at the best of times. It happened randomly, when he found himself thinking about that mysterious Russian, backed with his group of men and rides in a limousine who Alfred speculated to must be a part of a, say—gang. Group? Mafia? _Russian mafia_?

The echo of the thought gnawed at his gut and pulled him into a pool of anxiety. Now, he needed to find out.

Not until classes were finally over for the day after what felt like an indolent move over the stretch of time and he retreated from the classroom to the safety of the hallway, walking past the crowd that was eager to leave school as much as he does but he was stopped when he was outside the building.

A hand held his shoulder and Alfred casted a glance to his side, only to see a group standing closely with sour expressions on their faces. He then knew he would be late today as he began following them and soon he found himself tangled in a fit of fists, kicks thrown about between every faces and limbs he targeted.

* * *

XXX

* * *

His knuckles stung and his lips had dried blood at the edges, Alfred wasn't even sure what those guys wanted in the first place after he had beaten them up once over an incident about bikes—long story short, Alfred busted them, they were furious, Alfred easily handled their asses, it was over but they didn't take it nicely, from the way it looks when they were generous enough to invite him out today for their plan to settle things out and the young man almost felt flattered, they'd go as far as to do that! But they were idiots for thinking they had a chance against him, him the hero who consistently triumphed over every fight he's thrown into.

Alfred had back-tracked away from his general path towards home, instead he entered the side of the town and gulped. He was stupid for doing this but he just needed to see, he promised himself if anything goes wrong, he'll flee without debate. _The only time a hero like me has to run!_

There was no news the day after his assault and that alone send a thought that maybe the same men were still in this side of the town? _Nonsense._ It was six o' clock, last time it had been dead in the night because he was walking slowly but this time? He's not going to chance anything.

Alfred watched several signs lighting up and he spotted the glimmer of the familiarity where the incident took place.

He stopped immediately. Right there ahead of him where the alley stood, a man emerged.

The mere sight of Ivan sent a wave of something Alfred couldn't put a finger on, it instantly reminded him of that night several weeks ago. His hold, his smile, his eyes, Ivan turned his head to Alfred and a grin stretched on his lips.

"Oh, little boy!" He beamed and Alfred cringed in response from being addressed that way!

"I'm not a little boy," Alfred watched Ivan approaching and stood right in front of him.

Ivan was still grinning and opened his mouth again to speak, giving no regard to Alfred's respond. "How have you been, boy? I did not think I would see you again but here we are, isn't that funny?"

"Dude, I'm not going to correct ya again, I'm not some lil' boy. My name is Alfred, _Ivan._ " Alfred simply watched his gentle gaze and the smile that then made his own lips curled upwards.

"And, yeah, I didn't have a chance to say thanks even if your, uh, _friend_ put me out of commission for a while. It hurt a hell lot more than my scraped face!" He said, and at ease that this encounter was appearing to go along smoothly—that is until, Alfred watched Ivan taking a step closer and suddenly those gentle eyes were diminished of any glimmer. They were empty and his features hollowed.

Alfred didn't make any move to step back, he still stood there and was trapped under the stare. "Didn't I say, we do not want children who can't play nice? And you did kick me in the face when I was only trying to help you, _myshka._ "

God, he was so close and Alfred frowned. What was that last thing Ivan just said? Mish-ka? "Was it my fault that you were acting creepy?" He saw a twitch in Ivan's smile. "I mean, I was still in shock, dude, I was thankful for the help but ya kept trying to get close!"

"Only because I was worried, Alfred. And I did save you but you acted like you were not grateful at all that time."

Alfred was confused, he felt a pair of gloved hands cupping his cheeks and his eyes snapped wide. "W- Wait, I think you're misunderstanding what I just said. I—"

He wasn't sure what to say, his face was being held and Ivan had leaned closer that their noses almost touched. It sent a shiver in his neck when Ivan parted his lips to say something, he could feel the air coming out. "Do you really think I'd easily let you go like that? The kick actually hurt, I was a little sad… I want to be friends with you. But after you pay for your little mistake?"

The statement alone lurched fear into his pit but was Ivan someone he should fear at this moment? And was he _that_ angry about the kick? Alfred didn't want to falter and took a deep breath. He reached up and slowly grasped the Russian's wrists, and he could see a flush of surprise in his face.

"Hey, big guy, didn't I say sorry? Are you really still upset about it? And it's a little unfair when you're telling me I should pay ya back like I owe ya when all of that was just an accident. So just… let go now and we can talk about this." That's right, Alfred told himself he can handle this and he watched Ivan expectedly to wait for his response but it was silent. Their eyes locked.

The silence swallowed when Ivan's hold travelled down to Alfred's neck and he couldn't deny the gasp that fled from his lips. Alfred was tightening his grip when the hands around his neck curled and dug into his muscles of his neck.

His body twitched and his throat clenched, "I-Ivan," he stammered. _This is not cool, this is not cool, this is not cool, is he seriously strangling me? He really looks like he wants to kill me and I am not cool with that!_

Alfred tried again, calling his name but to no avail as his throat felt like it's being crushed.

"Ah, but…" Ivan loosened his hold and Alfred sucked in the air his lungs were beginning to beg for. "Your eyes are so blue, blue like the ocean and it's beautiful, I do not want to choke a friend to death,"

In the back of Alfred's mind, he's beginning to question what made him think this Russian was beautiful in the first place and his cheeks formed a distinguishable red. "Y- Yeah? If you don't let go now, I might send another kick to your face, ya handsome bastard!"

Ivan raised an eyebrow and emotions pooled in his face, from startled and then, amused. Alfred had then only realized what he said when the Russian pursed his lips and hummed.

"Wait—I mean—" _HAD I REALLY SAID THAT TO THE GUY WHO WAS CHOKING ME._

"That is very flattering, thank you. I did not think you saw me as handsome!"

 _No you're not handsome, you're not handsome at all._ Alfred felt the same hands cupping his cheeks again and his blush intensified. Ivan's face was close again.

"But kick me again, Alfred, and I will drain your face from all your blood."

Alfred was torn—was that a threat? Because oddly enough, his heart was racing instead. "That sounds ridiculous, I'd like to see you try if you even can do that."

Silence loomed again when Ivan dropped his hands and he was looking around before speaking once more. "It is getting late… maybe I can walk you home?"

* * *

XXX

* * *

 _ **I did say their relationship will be conflicted. It was noted once that APH Russia is unaware of how his actions can hurt others, so expect that in the future of Ivan easily trying to choke or punch Alfred almost too easily.**_

 _ **And there's no justifying Alfred's growing attraction at this guy- the pros almost outweighs the cons, Ivan can be the most odd company to be with.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred had so many questions, he was still intrigued by why exactly Ivan possesses a connection with a group of many men who obeyed every word he utters from the demonstration the sandy blond had witnessed at the night of his assault, he was still intrigued by why it is that Ivan wears a scarf, and a pair of gloves in this kind of weather—Alfred himself wanted to tear off his t-shirt and strip from his jeans to leave himself bear just in his boxers because the heat in this town was eager to boil him at some point. But here Ivan is, appearing completely unaffected in his three-piece suit and the ungodly thick scarf together with those leather gloves.

But what Alfred is most curious about is why was Ivan in that alley? He casted a glance to the tall Russian walking beside him and the pair effectively ignored the stares directed their way as they continued their walk.

Appearing to have noticed, the Russian caught the blue eyes that were looking and gazed back at Alfred with the same gentle smile bouncing his lips. "Yes?" He asked, cocking his head to the side while Alfred had raised an eyebrow.

"Just wanted to ask ya, why were you there? In that alley, I mean. I actually didn't think I'd be able to meet ya there even by coincidence!" Alfred offered a grin and watched the other shrugging lightly and breathed a soft, " _Oh,_ "

"I am fairly new to this town for work and today, I was taking a walk right after and somehow… I got lost! I found myself in that alley and thought there was a way out but saw it was a dead end." He giggled and Alfred's grin dropped slightly.

" _Work_?" Alfred stretched those words with a small hint of accusation underlid. Because Alfred somewhat knew all of the faces here. Ivan wasn't lying about being here for the first time, Alfred had never seen this odd character out of place in this area most especially. It wasn't just constant to run into a foreigner around here.

Ivan nodded, and gave off a very strong impression of innocence just with those sparkling eyes and the gentle smile alone. "Da, work. It requires me to travel sometimes in this country."

"And how often do you travel? From state to state? What kind of work do you do?" Alfred wasn't one to read the atmosphere—hell, he chooses not to at the best of times but right now, the young man was sure in the name of Lady Liberty that his heroic senses were catching onto something here! He saw Ivan almost immediately turning at lightning speed, and he saw Ivan wrinkling his nose.

"Tsk, getting personal are we? That is too many questions from you," he laughed it off almost cheerfully and grasped Alfred's shoulder. "Why do you want to know?"

The self-claimed hero racked his mind as he brushed Ivan's hand away. "Well," he began. "You said you wanted to be friends with me and over here in good ol' United States of America, we do it by telling each other about ourselves. So, why don't you start!"

Ivan's first respond was to blink several times before his fingers reached automatically to the end of his scarf. "Um…" Ivan returned his gaze back at the path and begin gripping the soft fabric. "Well, I don't think I have much to say about myself… I'm from Russia, I'm twenty-four years old and I really like sunflowers." The Russian had then buried half his face into his scarf, expecting a laugh from the young man beside him because it's always been that way—the juxtaposition between a large sized man like Ivan Braginski possessing the fondness towards sunflowers seemed to always get a good laugh from the people he had acquainted himself with in the past. Not that they mattered as their companionship was nothing more than business that most of the time ends; however so, if his new friend Alfred here laughed… Ivan wasn't sure what to feel about that.

Bashful is one thing, disappointment could add to it as Alfred possibly is the first person he's made friends with that doesn't cower away from his mere threats from their previous encounter and the earlier exchange. And, and, the young Alfred has really beautiful blue eyes that he himself found liking it!

Now he awaits Alfred's response and it came as a loud laugh that just made Ivan blush a very obvious red from his cheeks to his ears.

"Wha—oh, man!" Alfred could be heard wheezing from here and a quick glance showed that the young man was bent over his knees, clutching them with a struggle as his laughter wasn't coming close to an end which made Ivan feeling even more flustered at this point and he grumbled to himself, _next time do not tell people that you like sunflowers._

Alfred had regained his breath and slowly came to fixing his posture. But he couldn't exactly wipe away the stretching smile at his lips. Sunflowers, this buff Russian dude who Alfred still suspects is a part of some sort of an underground Russian mafia, likes sunflowers and the contrast was stark that it wasn't just giving a humorous effect to Alfred, but it struck him as a little endearing as well. A closer look and he could see how awfully red Ivan is and out of instinct, he reached out and gave a light punch to the other's shoulder. "I didn't expect that at all, dude. But I think it's cute. I don't think I've ever met any Russian who likes sunflowers and you're lucky, this town has plenty of 'em at any flower shop you're planning to go. If you don't get lost again like today, that is."

The two crossed the street and they had left the main road. They've been walking towards the direction from where Alfred had come from which was a good few miles away from his school and he noted, they should pass by it anytime sooner if not later.

It was quiet and Alfred felt a little discomforted, because he wanted to say so many things—just that, nothing is coming to his mind for him to form a respond of any kind to put into voice. Being with Ivan seemed to make Alfred almost at a loss for words because the young man was more occupied with the questions in his mind as Ivan had been vague about his background. _But okay,_ Ivan pressed there was nothing much, though, even Alfred could see past that. **SUSPICION** was written all over this big guy like a warning sign, he had to at least have _so many_ things going on. _Many secrets_ , and Alfred noted with a small snort almost forming into a laugh, _maybe that's why his nose is so big_ , _he keeps many secrets in there_ and Alfred had to look away quickly to avoid from Ivan noticing he had been staring at his nose and almost laughing at that silly thought of his.

As much as the mysteries Ivan seems to be clouded in that was masked almost easily—too easily with that smile and gentle childlike personality, Alfred found himself to actually enjoy this odd company with the Russian who agreed to walk him home.

Being at the mercy of Ivan's men who did a good number of him, almost choked over the lingering anger of being kicked, Alfred can't find it in himself to not tread into this territory towards Ivan. This, this territory that almost smelt danger to him was too big of an attraction to walk away from.

It was getting cold; Alfred drew his arms across his chest to hug himself. By day, it would be scorching hot and by night like this, it would be too cold to miss and a breeze past by the two which made the young man hold himself tighter and scolded himself for making the decision to leave his jacket in the locker and by perfect chance, they were approaching the school. It was dark but it was still clear to make out the shape of the place thanks to the streetlights and Alfred noticed Ivan was a few feet behind him, prompting him to stop and look back to see the Russian was standing still and stared at the building.

"Your school, isn't it? I remember passing by this place when I was sending you home." Those were such simple words but it instantly reminded Alfred of that night, the highlight of the night being held in those arms and it made him blush at first as he nodded.

"That goes without question but there's another school way up ahead, some place for elitist bullshit. They're further, have better things, and closer to the city which might be why they act like these snobs—and most of them are rich." Another breeze and Alfred was silently cursing his split second decision that lead him to freeze like this, he felt betrayed by himself and failed to noticed the Russian had caught up and was a mere foot away from him. He also failed to noticed Ivan taking off his coat and easily placed it on the young man's shoulders who flinched in surprise and immediately looked up.

Ivan offered a grin. "I don't want my friend to freeze to death! Let's go."

Alfred followed wordlessly, the smell of the cologne was rubbing off of him and by God, it smells so damn good. A rich, cooling smell. A little minty too, but the essence of it was calming and chilly—it suited Ivan very well as he rolled the sleeves up past his wrists. The coat wasn't too big but it could almost hang off his own form.

Dreading the silence, Alfred found himself talking the rest of the way to his house in order to end his questions all at once; if he kept asking, and asking in his mind, not a single answer would be given! And asking Ivan himself didn't seem much like a choice when the Russian was vague about his answers.

So Alfred jumped from topic to topic, he began about his school and the old tale of his troubled days that lasts until today. It went from there to his two best friends he always meets at the skate park, and he was excited when he talked about his first experience skating. Because when Alfred mentioned how he fell face first and broke several tooth, Ivan laughed and the laughter was so cute and Ivan was really, _really_ listening. The Russian's short hums and nodding that urged Alfred to continue was no less than assuring for him to just ramble off like there was no tomorrow. With Matthias and Gilbert, he had shared these same things to them but they always had something to add after the end. With his family, Francis and Matthew never got to hear much as the littlest mention of his fun and experience reached Arthur and that always blow out to disapprovements, slash arguments. But Ivan is really listening and didn't let Alfred stop.

And as they realized, they were approaching his house they're now walking towards in a dawdling manner. Only then, Alfred finished with a sigh and a fond smile, "Man, I never talked this much. I do with Gil and Matthias, but I don't know, you really listen."

"Back in my country, it was always snowing." Ivan steered his gaze upwards to the night sky and a smile could be seen on those lips. "It is always cold no matter the time of the year and to me, it feels a little lonely. Coming here for my work was a nice little change but I don't think I ever felt warmer than being with you. My new friend! So I do not mind if I have to listen to you all day."

 _Wow, talk about knowing how to make a guy blush._ And Alfred was red in his cheeks right now. It felt flattering to hear someone say that and try as he might, there was no other tone save for the sincerity in the Russian's voice that assured Alfred for the second time that night.

They finally found themselves at the front step of the porch to Alfred's house and he chuckled. "Well, this is my stop, dude. Can't thank ya enough for walking me back home!" The moment Alfred turned to face Ivan, he froze when the other had leaned close and felt the same gloved hand pressed to his cheek whilst the other had been planted with a soft kiss, and Ivan's lips seemed to remained there for a second longer. Ivan was very close for Alfred to feel the curls of his pale blond hair tickling the side of his forehead, and Ivan finally pulled away. "Anything for a friend. _Dohsveedahneeyah_."

The young man was in a complete daze when he entered his house, Alfred passed by his pops, his papa who was glancing oddly at their boy seemingly in a trance walking up the stairs and they looked at each other. Francis merely shrugged at Arthur who made a face across the living room to the table Francis sat at, hands hovering above the keyboard of his laptop. They listened to the soft thudding sounds, and the door closing, then Arthur opened his mouth.

"What… What happened to that boy?" Francis smiled a little and shook his head. "You're asking me, _cher?_ How would I know? But if I am allowed to make a guess, he looks like he's in love—"

"You're not allowed to make that assumption."

Alfred didn't return to his room, he made a swift beeline to his brother's room who didn't look too amused when he saw Alfred entering and sunk into his bed. Raising an eyebrow, Matthew stood and retreated from his desk, and approached the older male who was… uh, quiet? Which really nagged at the younger brother that chose to sit at the side of his bed, next to Alfred who stared at his hands and _then_ , he was groaning.

"Al?" Matthew scooted closer and watched his brother with a little concern. "Al, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

His face was buried into his palms so when he replied, it came as a garbled response which inclined his brother to ask his question again before Alfred finally raised his head and turned to Matthew who appeared anything but surprised, that's because his face was just so damn red like a fire truck! Alfred rephrased his answer, "Many things _happened,_ and remember that we haven't talked about it? When I was almost… y'know?"

Matthew was silent for a moment, nodding. Alfred had actually avoided from saying anything about it and he wasn't one to pressure his older brother about this because his refusal most of the time had proved annoying enough with a repeated assurance of being fine that ultimately drove Matthew to agree with a little dissatisfaction to leave him alone. But tonight it appears he has a chance, so Matthew took his brother's hand. "…You're going to have to start from there because I don't understand what you're trying to say right now. And whose coat are you wearing?"

Alfred responded with a weak sigh. "So, that night…"

* * *

XXX

* * *

It wasn't the assault that Matthew was worried of because Alfred was emphasizing almost everything about Ivan even if they had only met two times and Matthew would have laughed because one; Alfred never acted like this. This, as in, blushing a bit too much and talking almost excitedly about his 'new friend' and two—the coat belongs to Ivan and the way his older brother was hugging it seemed oddly adorable.

That all changed when Alfred started talking about their encounter earlier and he said, "He didn't actually tell me what his job is."

Matthew only asked back with an eyebrow lifted, "But you said he told you that his job involves travelling, maybe it has something to do with business?"

"No." Matthew was almost surprised over how quick the other had answered him.

"What, you think he's a… uh, I don't know, Al?"

"I think he's part of some gang, like, y'know, mafia?"

There's the idiot side of his older brother that made Matthew roll his eyes and Alfred whined, "I just have a feeling! A hunch, maybe he is? He looks that way!"

With a short laugh, Matthew crossed his arms. "Really, now? What gives?"

"First," Alfred held one finger up. "Expensive cars. Second," he drew another finger up. "Bodyguards or members of his super-secret gang and third, he wears a suit!"

"…"

Matthew's grimace made Alfred pout and drop his hand. The older male huffed and looked away as he rested the coat on his laps. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Just because some guy has expensive cars, bodyguards, wears a suit, it doesn't make him some sort of a mafia member or a mafia leader—God, Alfred, for someone who acts tough and pick fights, you're the bigger nerd here compared to me."

Alfred collapsed onto the bed with a loud groan, almost too dramatically in Matthew's view as he shook his head and smiled. "I'm sure you're just speculating too much when the truth is, he might be the most ordinary guy with the most ordinary job. I don't know, which is why I want to ask you if you're going to see him again?" He asked, and watched his older brother stare at the ceiling for a second too longer. He saw Alfred shrugging.

"I 'unno, I didn't even ask for his number and today was some pure luck that I got to meet him again. Can I sleep in your room tonight?"

"You're already here and I won't sleep until midnight or something, got a lot of homework to finish."

* * *

XXX

* * *

It was a wonder why Alfred never thought about asking any sort of contact detail from Ivan, that kind of thought must have been drifting somewhere because that night he walked together with the Russian was all over the place from first being choked, threatened, and making up like they were old pals who were simply joking around.

In class and not paying attention, Alfred was beginning to miss that big guy and it really wasn't because of that kiss to his cheek or those warm hands _OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT._ Not at all! Alfred found himself absent-mindedly scribbling a circle after circle on his notebook without stop until that is, someone had cleared their throat and the young man looked up to see the teacher nodding towards the door.

Alfred followed his gaze and saw nothing in particular. Before he could even ask anything, the teacher had quickly told him that an announcement had been made to call him to the principal's office. He had been too spaced out to even notice! With a bright grin, he stood up in a hurry and that pushed his chair back, the loud creek had made everyone click their tongues at him in annoyance and he laughed, "Oh boy, I wonder what it is they got this time for a hero like me!"

Though, he wasn't exactly looking forward to it and kicked the door open without so much regard to his teacher as he left the class. There were billion things shooting at him like an endless stream of bullets even if he had only gotten into a fight just over a week ago! That was the last one for this month at least and Alfred scowled at the thought of those God damn bicycle thieves who must have did this on purpose to get back at him which was just stupid.

But he was proven wrong as soon as he entered the office belonging to the principal who looked as stern as always! That wasn't the main show, oh no, Alfred could almost feel being swallowed into a pit when he saw two police officers in the room with them, and George. George, sitting down and almost shaking, not even daring to look at the principle nor the officers.

Alfred smoothly walked over and took his seat as he waved at George who of course, isn't lifting his face up but seeing the dude jump just because Alfred basically dropped onto the chair was almost hilarious, the chief of the bicycle thieves wouldn't be this much of a coward, would he? Alfred wanted to tease him a little bit more but a piercing glare from the principal was enough for Alfred to draw back and face the older man instead, smiling at him. "Seeing as there are like, officers joining us for this… I take it I did something really bad?"

Which wasn't good news if his pops know this. Alfred prayed to all the gods out there that his parents hasn't been informed yet as he hears the officers stepping close. The principal shook his head, "It's not you but you're not off the hook either for getting into a fight. However," he pointed his eyes at George. "We did found out some few things in the interest of the authority so I expect for you to cooperate—these officers will be asking questions. It's related to their thievery activities thanks to you that was exposed once, Jones. This time seemed to take a turn for the worst."

For the first time, he isn't in trouble and Alfred felt a gush of pride in him as he grinned and nodded. "I know I pick fights but at least I know who to fight with, I'm not one to challenge just anyone for the fun of it, that ain't heroic, y'know?" Alfred heard the one of the officers behind him chuckle and even the principal's tight lips almost curved up. The young man leaned back into his chair. "Alright, shoot. Whatever you ask, I'm happy to answer and help out. Don't ya feel the same, George?"

Alfred patted George's shoulder and the dude looked like he was about to piss himself, earning a laugh from the blond who didn't have to wait for long before the officers were about to begin asking questions.

He should be happy about himself at this point, he was helping out the cops learning more details of an incident with the bicycle thieves but some points were… odd. Odd enough that it was screaming at Alfred about Ivan over the mentions of things such as; " _This time it involved motorcycles,_ " " _Almost every model is registered to one man,_ " " _Expensive brands_ ," " _It's not of this country's origins, it's brought here from another place._ " And Alfred kept his gaze at George, thinking how absurd this dude must be—why go so far to steal motorcycles now? Much especially from a rich, foreign man? If said rich foreign man is Ivan, that would be too odd of a chance.

Eventually, under suspicion of the crime, George was put cuffs on and will be taken to the station for further interrogation, seeing as Alfred had answered whatever he knew about George's activities and it seems that this investigation will expand. It's got to do with a rich guy and his property, it would surely be a big hassle and not the kind of thing Alfred would want to be a part of. But the police officers had asked Alfred, if there is anything else he knows, " _Don't hesitate to come to us and tell us everything._ "

The principal thanked Alfred monotonously and the young man soon made his way out, giving a quick glance to the officers escorting George with them down the hallway and a few students peeked their heads out to watch, whispers exchanged as their curiosity was piqued about what must have happened.

" _ALFRED FREDERICK JONES!_ " A man was running past the scene towards Alfred who, in surprise, almost stumbled back. What was Arthur doing here?! At the same time, the principal had stepped out just as Arthur came face to face with his son whose face was completely drained of all colour.

"What is this I hear about you being involved in an investigation?! What in God's name did you do this time?!" Alfred was curling his fingers into fists and took a step backward, his pops is _pissed_ and he saw the principal reaching a hand out.

"Mister Kirkland, I assure you that this has got nothing to do with him. He was only assisting—" "Oh, bull crap." The principal winced at the cuss.

"I need to ask you to refrain yourself from using that kind of language here, mister Kirkland." But it was clear that Arthur wasn't listening, and Alfred wanted to say something but his pops had cut him to it.

"How much further are you trying to drive me up the wall with all these bloody mess you're creating? Do you have any idea how shocking it was for me when I received the call from your school about this?!"

"Pops—" Alfred clenched his jaw. "I didn't do _anything_ ; did you even see that dude who got whisked out by the cops?! I didn't do _anything_!"

"What about the fight you had with whoever that was and his group?! What is that?!"

"Mister Kirkland—" The principal, for the last time tried to intervene but was quickly shut down when Arthur took a step forward, jabbing a finger to his son's chest as he continued to speak. "Honestly, just how far are you taking this heroic nonsense?! Grow the hell up! All you're doing is hurting yourself and other people and that's not heroic, that's just reckless, ridiculous and stupid! Did you hear me?! STUPID!"

Alfred wasn't comprehending anything anymore as he had turned on his heels and began dashing across the floor, pass the classrooms, taking a turn, run, run, run, run, run, he jumped over the few remaining steps of the stairs and landed roughly. He continued to run and run, Alfred raced for the west corridor exit that was nearer to the road that'll let him reach further away from the school.

His eyes stung, because it was one thing to be called immature by pops but to be called stupid? And to not be listened to? God, his pops had always, always, just, _always_ never listened no matter how hard Alfred tried to explain since the beginning. Even today just showed to the young man, why does he even bother trying? Arthur is probably the most thick-faced person and it just shows his efforts should be thrown over the bridge instead because getting through that pops of his is almost like trying to do the impossible!

His legs carried him as far as he needed to before Alfred found himself in town and slowing down to a jog. He neared an old building with red bricks, he turned to reach the front and sunk against the wall. It then hit Alfred that this was the old, closed shop that he, Gilbert, and Matthias came to from over weeks ago when they skated together.

Alfred sat in silence at first, simply staring at his shoes until he took out his phone and his thumb hovered over the screen before unlocking it and going to the messaging application. He tapped into their group conversation.

11:06 Captain America: _Typing…_

11:06 Captain America: _Pls tell me any of you two are free right now_

11:07 DankDane: _wait aren't u in school right now_

11:07 DankDane: _did something happened did you got into another fight or do you need help_

11:08 DankDane: _SHIT I CAN'T HELP THO CAUSE I CAN'T FIND MY AXE ANYWHERE_

11:08 DankDane: _BUT ALSO THE PRETTY NORWEGIAN IS HERE AGAIN IM NOT SURE IF I CAN LEAVE_

11:08 AwesoME: _wow ur very helpful Matthias im so glad u care more about ur gay thoughts than ur friend_

11:08 Captain America: _Wait guys just_

11:09 Captain America: _Im okay. I skipped class because shit got too boring and Im in town_

11:09 AwesoME: _Where exactly tho? Ur not at the park, right? Just a head's up Im at the studio with Liz if you want to drop by._

11:09 AwesoME: _She's still able to kick my ass I am not happy about this but I'll be here the whole day, kay?_

11:09 AwesoME: _and it looks like the gay dane is gone now wow he's such a good friend_

11:10 Captain America: _LMAO but sure thing, gil. Thanks._

Alfred had considered that he could decide to go over to the boxing studio to meet Gilbert, seeing as his friend Elizabeta is there and her company is always the best. That, and adding the fact she can completely take down both he and Gilbert as easily as swatting a mosquito.

He would need that moment to just vent out at every punching bags there but still he was glued to the spot. Taking deep, slow breaths. Alfred was willing to calm down before he got up and stood in front of the door to this old shop. What kind of shop, is it? The American found himself asking, eyeing the aged wooden door that Alfred soon saw himself swinging his fist at.

It didn't stop there and granted, not many people passed by to watch a young man punching a mere innocent door that was beginning to crack and the small wooden chips scratched Alfred's knuckles, lodging into the freshly torn wound beginning to pulsating pain all over his bare fists.

What stopped him was a sudden click and a gun was held to the door knob, the surprise of the appearance made Alfred pull his hands back as the trigger was pulled not once, but twice that's enough to undo the mechanics of the knob to allow the door to be open. A closer look, the gun was attached with a long nozzle that Alfred recognized was the weapon being equipped with a silencer.

Ivan pushed the door open and Alfred was dumbstruck, watching the Russian smiling at him. "It is nice to see you again, Alfred. And I saw that you wanted to enter this place… by punching? That is not good, now your hands are cut."

* * *

XXX

* * *

"Do not move too much, it will hurt a little."

"It's already hurting from how you're holding it, dude!"

"I am holding as gently as I can, Alfred. Will you stop moving?"

"Wait—ah!" The alcohol washed over the cuts on his knuckle and Alfred jumped slightly. He pried his eyes away and opted to stare at the floor they both sat at. He noticed how dusty it is and his mind pondered if it was even possible to count the speck of dusts one by one to ignore the shaking, and the pain, and how gentle Ivan is holding his hand.

"I do not understand why you would punch the door like that. Unless you were angry about something?" Ivan had placed the flask aside and Alfred watched the Russian pulling out three small metallic cases, one he opened showed several different type of tweezers and Alfred raised an eyebrow. What kind of guy carries these kind of things around? But Alfred faked a laugh before replying. "School."

"Hmm…" Now, Alfred gulped. Splinters can hurt a _hell lot_ and Alfred didn't realize how plenty little, evil wooden chips were stuck in his knuckles just because he was stupid and angry enough to punch wood. Alfred wanted to look away, but honestly, seeing Ivan so focused and careful removing every little pieces he could spot was somewhat attracting.

His gaze was so intense, his lips pursed and the way he held Alfred's hand was so delicate. Even if he still is wearing gloves which still had the American ask again, why the gloves? But never mind that, let's talk about those eyelashes he could spot from this closeness. Ivan had beautiful eyelashes, they appeared long and sleek, and Alfred felt jealous. Maybe he could count those instead of the dusts? Ivan's eyebrows matched the colour of his pale, blond hair and it was very curly. It almost made Alfred wanting to just pat those curls, maybe even brush them, or intertwine his fingers in it to bask in the softness. From here Alfred could tell, it looks soft!

"A second ago, you could not even look at me when I was washing your wounds but now you are staring. Is something wrong?" Ivan had looked up and appeared confused at first, and then worried as he dropped the tweezers. "O-Oh, does it hurt? I am sorry, do you want me to do it more gently now?"

There was panic in his voice and Alfred stared for a second longer before he chuckled. "No, no, it doesn't hurt as much! I just noticed how your hair looks pretty damn soft. Is it soft?"

It was Ivan's turn to laugh as he dabbed a small cotton ball soaked with the alcohol to the wound before resuming the procedure. "I am no dog that you can just pat, Alfred. But I think my hair is soft as it can be."

"But do not think about touching it with your hands dirty like this."

Alfred cursed under his breath and pouted. "I-I wasn't about to." As serious as Ivan sounded, Alfred could spot the Russian smiling and blushing a little, making himself smiling as well but this all seemed just… what were the chances that he would meet Ivan here, of all places? Before Alfred could think to ask, Ivan had finished taking out every splinter and made sure there were none missed after another round of washing with the vodka from his flask before dressing it. He then asked for Alfred's left hand.

Alfred gazed at his bandaged knuckles before he rested them on his lap. "Hey, Ivan?" He asked and the Russian gave a curt nod without looking, he was concentrating like before after washing the wound to start removing the splinters again.

"I said I was pissed about school, didn't I? I'm just gonna put it out there that I lied. I wasn't generally pissed about that shit storm of a place; I was pissed because of a misunderstanding."

It was quiet between the two and Alfred wasn't sure if he should continue. But Ivan then piped in. "And you are only admitting this to me now because…?"

"Because if I was honest with you, maybe then you can be honest as well and tell me why do you have a gun with you."

A pause, the tweezers holding a rather large piece of chipped wood was inches away from the spot it was pulled out of before Ivan moved to place it with the rest on the gauze laid next to the case. "Why, of course it is for self-defence."

 _Yeah, right._ "A self-defence equipped with a silencer, huh? I—Ow!" Ivan had actually pulled that one out with a little speed and Alfred noticed the Russian smiling after that, muttering an apology.

"You ask a lot of questions, you know? You are a very curious little one." Finally pulling the last one out, Ivan scanned over carefully to ensure nothing was left and then he began cleaning the wound again before pulling another bandage from the case. After finishing, Ivan admired his work with an adorning smile before reaching to grab both Alfred's hands and bringing them closer to his lips.

"I did not see why you should lie, Alfred. And you should not hurt yourself either." Unbeknownst to Ivan was Alfred blushing madly red and stammering, looking at everywhere but the Russian kissing his hands like this! "I-I… uh, yeah, I-I'll be careful. And, thanks for… T-Thanks, dude."

Alfred would never admit the slight disappointment when Ivan let go of his hands and started to return the tweezers back into its case and putting them away into the inner pockets of his coat. Including the flask, right after watching the Russian taking one gulp from it.

Then, the gun. It's been there on the floor beside them this whole time and watching the other pick it up almost made Alfred retreat in surprise but the Russian toggled with the magazine that slid from the grip after pressing the release for it. And oddly enough, Ivan was clearing out the bullets? It landed with a gentle clank to the floor, one by one. "Alfred," the Russian had placed the magazine beside the table he could reach and began taking off the silencer. He needed to rack the slide and clear out a cartridge that fell together with the rest of the bullets.

Alfred wanted to recoil his fists against the restraints of the bandages, it was unnerving to watch Ivan with that smile. "What's up?" He answered, grateful that his voice wasn't strained in any way over the stress of watching someone unloading, and then loading back the gun.

Once Ivan slammed the magazine in, he pulled the slide. "Have you ever played Russian Roulette, Alfred?"

The breath caught in his throat when Alfred watched Ivan pointing the gun to his own head, and _CLICK!_ Ivan remained smiling and aimed the gun towards Alfred next.

 _CLICK!_

Alfred's entire body flinched at the sound. It was incredibly loud in this quiet space and cold sweat dripped down his forehead. His hands shook, Ivan aimed the gun back at himself again and _CLICK!_ Alfred jumped this time.

His head was pounding, his heart racing as he rushed to think, how many bullets does the magazine of that gun can hold? It varies from the model, right? What kind of gun is Ivan's? How many shot until the next where a bullet will slide in and be shot? Another _CLICK!_ Alfred staggered back.

"I-Ivan, this isn't fun. Can't we play another game instead? Hey," he forced a laugh and Ivan stepped forward. This time it's the Russian's turn to pull the trigger against himself before pointing back at the young man who had fallen to his knees and gasping after another click echoed the room.

Ivan joined him on the floor and tossed the gun away. "Can you tell me more about the misunderstanding you were angry about at school?"

Without much thinking, Alfred launched his arms forward and grabbed his shoulders, pushing Ivan down to his back. He climbed on top of the other and straddling him, glaring into those violet eyes. "What the hell _was that?!_ You don't point a gun at anyone even if it has no bullets or one bullet, I don't care! You could have fucking killed me, Ivan!"

"Ah," he chuckled. "There were actually no bullets, but please tell me about the misunderstanding or would you prefer to play another game? You do not have to say anything. You respond with your feelings."

" _No bullets?!_ Ivan, God damn it, this isn't the time for games!" And to laugh in this kind of situation was the last straw drawn, Alfred wanted Ivan to stop laughing and the palm of his hand drove quickly across Ivan's cheek.

But to Alfred's surprise, Ivan laughed again even after being slapped. "There, you are already starting to play. Show me how angry you are."

Another slap because Alfred wasn't sure what had gotten into the Russian who could manage a smile like that and even after a single punch which hurt for the both of them did not wipe off the cheery mask from Ivan's features.

But Ivan was right, Alfred was still angry and it was bubbling up when he thought back to what had occurred at school. Pops didn't want to listen and was quick to still blame Alfred. _Punch._ Pops always blamed him and never spared even one second to listen because he always thought, all Alfred's voice of reasoning was lacking sense, therefore stupid. _Punch._ Pops just called him stupid and Alfred never thought that a parent would call him something he had first fought against from the bullies in his kindergarten. _Punch._ _Punch. Punch._

His teeth clattered, his cheeks were damped with tears and Alfred sunk onto Ivan. His head buried into the crook of Ivan's neck and he heard him laughing for the final time as Alfred felt his arms circling his waist. "You were furious, Alfred, _myshka_ … The look in your eyes that could just kill yet it was so beautiful."

The young man didn't respond to that, he just let the relief wash over him as he felt so drained after that moment of release. But it was comforting when he felt Ivan's large hand that was on his head, carding and brushing his blond locks. Ivan's strong arms, strong hold, the kind whisper cooing him to calm down lead him to succumb into sleep.

* * *

XXX


	5. Chapter 5

A lamppost that stood at the corner of the turn mirroring the old shop offered what little shine of the light that crept into the large window clouded with dust and stains from its age. The sky was darkening and Ivan could see past the disarrayed wooden furniture to the window, estimating what time it must be at this moment as he still held the young American in his arms, sleeping in content.

Ivan parted his lips and the pain shot across his jaw, Alfred was angry enough to have hurt him like this but the short nap he took together with the other seemed to have lessened it though he can tell that talking or just opening his mouth would be a task for the strained, hurting muscles in his face.

Then, Ivan felt a buzzing that pressed against his thigh and a ringtone followed which sent the Russian to assume it was Alfred's phone ringing. And it slowly made the young man stir to wake up which proved to be an adorable attempt instead as Alfred opened his eyes only to close it back again. Then it flickered opened once more for him to whimper with a pout, and a small frown that creased his eyebrows.

So Ivan watched the still sleepy Alfred rising up and in a clumsy manner, fishing the phone from his pockets to take the call. The blond stifled a yawn, "Hello…?" he answered to the other line which Ivan could hear then bursting with a loud, worrying voice.

" _Alfred! Oh God, Alfred, where are you?!_ " The frown creased further and Alfred sat up straight.

" _Things are so out of control in the house right now after papa called me because you just took off? I don't know! Papa was panicking and trying to calm dad down and I'm with Carlos right now._ " Alfred wanted to cut in but Matthew had beat him to it.

" _Carlos is sending me back home and I'm panicking so much because if papa is freaking out like that, then dad must be super angry and I don't know what I'm expecting when I'll get there, oh my God Alfred._ "

" _I'm so worried right now, I… I know dad is always hard on you about everything you do. What happened?_ "

Alfred didn't know where to begin and Ivan could only cast a clear, confused gaze as the young man sprung to his feet and appeared loss at words before he could say something in reply. It was clear to see all traces of sleep had finally left the young man, shaking his head and cleared his throat before he replied. "I—Mattie, I'm with Ivan. Are you already home?"

" _Ivan? And yes, but I'm only outside and I'm still in the car. I honestly don't know if I should go in or not because papa sounded like he was um, having a hard time with dad right now._ "

The young man clawed at his hair before his fingers trailed and curled at his lips. What did his brother mean by pops being super angry? Super angry about him racing the hell out after being shouted at? Alfred groaned. "Mattie, call papa again and ask how's everything right now. Tell him that I'm with Ivan, and I'm fine but just say it's a friend!"

But before a reply could come, the call was already cut and Alfred retracted his phone, staring at the screen blankly as he heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, Ivan had asked if everything is alright but Alfred couldn't bite back the surprise yelp when he saw the Russian's face.

" _Jesus Christ,_ dude!" It was completely blotched with spots of bruises that smeared his cheeks and Alfred automatically reached out, but Ivan shook his head and captured the young man's hand. "No, it is okay. It doesn't hurt as much. But did something happen?"

"…Uh," he paused to stare at their hands intertwining. Then, an idea popped in his mind! "Can I stay over at your place tonight?"

But that only had Ivan staring at him oddly with his eyes narrowed and Alfred looked away, almost embarrassed after declaring that idea aloud! That sounded so weird and he wanted to smack himself for even thinking about it but it had to wait when his phone began to ring again. Alfred immediately answered, only to bet met with silence at first before his brother from the other line began to speak. His voice was meek, uncertain and mostly worried.

" _Al, I'm sorry I suddenly hung up. Papa called me and I had to answer and well, he knows I'm outside but he's telling me to not enter the house yet. Dad is mostly calm now at least, but I told papa I'm going back to Carlos's place._ " There was a halt and Alfred heard another voice speaking, a deeper and accented voice that asked something though it was faint to Alfred but he knew it belonged to Carlos. Matthew spoke to reply his friend quickly before returning to the call. " _Sorry about that, but as I was saying… I think you should stay with Ivan too, just for tonight at least. And I already told papa what you asked me to..._ "

Alfred ended the phone call soon with a brief goodbye, the decision he made was a split second reaction because the young man was overwhelmed by everything that was thrown at him all at once. He checked the time on his phone, it was 20:57PM. When he dashed after the mess at school, it was around eleven, twelve o'clock or so he recalls, because the class initially before being called to the principal's office was calculus and the period stretches over two hours that begins at ten o'clock sharp.

Which didn't make any sense for pops to have remained angry the entire day, as Alfred began running his fingers through his hair again and again that he was close to digging the nails into his scalp because that would have mean that the principal didn't do jack shit to explain to his pops about any of this! With a cry, his hand pulled from Ivan's hold, Alfred threw his fists into the air. "God damn it!"

Failing to notice the Russian approaching, Alfred continued his fit. A continuous cry of, " _God damn it, God damn it, God damn it all!_ " And the young man was close to tossing his phone against the wall out of spite, if it weren't for Ivan who stopped him with a firm grasp on his forearms.

Before Alfred could make any remark angrily, Ivan interjected with a gentle smile. "I believe you asked me you wanted to stay at my place for tonight? My answer is yes."

The sandy blond scowled but he sighed in defeat. "That won't clear up all these mess today… God, damn it."

"You will have all night to yourself for that, Alfred. And I will be there too."

* * *

XXX

* * *

The entire ride was spent with Alfred burying his face into his bandaged palms, sighing continuously in contemplation as many things whirled in his mind like a tornado. To the young man, whose blue eyes flooded with indignation, acquiescence was swelling in his chest as he thought back to his younger brother's words. Pops being incredibly infuriated about today wasn't far-fetched when Arthur would have been informed like this, " _We are obliged to inform you that your son, Alfred F. Jones is involved shortly in an investigation—_ " and it was possible from then on, Arthur had raced from his workplace to the school in order to see eye to eye with Alfred who committed no crime at all.

Pursing his lips, this all rang to the young man the very first time he sat in the principal's office which was during middle school in eighth grade, the rain was pattering outside and Alfred remembered digging his nails into his elbows and opting only to stare down.

"… _got into a fight…_ " And at that time, the principal in his middle school had a peculiar accent. His hair was brown and rather long, it almost reached his shoulders that Alfred remember how low it always hung. It gave the impression to the young boy that time how tired the principal looks. " _…the five group of boys told us their side of the story. Mister Albert, the gym teacher told us what he knew after his arrival._ "

It was silent in the car now save for the faint speaking voice from the Russian but Alfred wasn't even listening to what Ivan was saying, the young man was too busy recalling the details of those five boys' injuries. What were they, again? Something about broken ribs and cracks in their arms. Broken nose, dislocated shoulder, and Alfred knew his physical strength stood higher than anyone those years ago but it didn't stop the bullies from picking a fight with him for only God knows why, even if had proven himself being stronger than anyone! They kept coming and he had no choice but to fight back.

" _THEIR PARENTS WITHOUT A DOUBT WILL PRESS CHARGES UNLESS YOU APOLOGIZE OR SO HELP ME, TELL ME WHY YOU WENT AS FAR AS TO PUT THEM IN THE BLOODY HOSPITAL!_ "

The young man felt the corner of his eyes suddenly becoming heavy with tears when that flash of memory played like a clip in his mind. But it was vivid, and he was only thirteen at that time. Thirteen, hurt and injured from the big fight that took place in the gym. Alfred remembered how damn bright the lights were and the scattered papers from his bag when it was thrown.

" _I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HURT THOSE BOYS LIKE THAT! EVEN IF THEY STARTED IT, WAS IT ANY FAIR THAN YOU PAYING THEM BACK TWICE, TEN TIMES COMPARED TO THEIR ACTIONS?!_ "

Dribbles from the sole of their shoes echoed loudly, thuds as body slammed down and cries of pain hollered when Alfred's punches came into contact with the boy's face trapped underneath him. One of them, Alfred remembered had try to pull him back by the collar of his jacket but that made him swirl and head-butting the boy that then fell backward. He then remembered facing the basketball pole and narrowly avoiding the third boy who attempted to launch a surprise attack and if slamming into the steel pole by accident wasn't enough, the blind rage drove Alfred to draw him up again by his arm and swinging him against the pole for the second time.

" _YOU CALL YOURSELF A HERO BUT ALL THAT YOU ARE IS AN IDIOT! A STUPID, MORONIC, AND SELFISH BOY!_ "

It all started because of those two boys who walked in first and actually brandished baseball bats in their hands, grinning, " _Let's have a little fun, Jones._ " And he could still feel the pain when he twisted his ankles from trying to duck their continued attack using the bats. Being hit in his stomach almost made Alfred feeling like his lungs could've been spitted out as easily as ABC from the impact alone, and he was clutching his gut as he fell to his knees. The second hit never came because they took their time waiting for the other three to arrive and enough time for the young Alfred, blue eyes danced in a pool of fury he staggered to his feet and fought back.

He fought back until the doors slammed open to reveal his younger brother Matthew who called the gym teacher, and Matthew's face sketched with horror at the sight of bruises, blood from Alfred's own nose and mouth snapped him back to reality. When pops and papa found out, Alfred remembered how chaos and devastation erupted in the house before everything followed to school when the principal called his parents over, pops being the only one who wanted to show up with a still in pain Alfred in hand, forcing him to sit and listen to every last bit of his screams which struck his thirteen-year-old self like lightning at that time. Those accusing eyes that pierced his young heart, shaking the hold the young boy that time had about what a hero really is… _stupid_.

The trip down memory lane came to a forced stop when Alfred lifted his face upwards for a second before burrowing his forehead into the heels of his hands. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ He wanted to stop the tears by pressing into his eyelids but they still rushed out as the pang in his heart was strong and aching. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ The young man's shoulders began to shake and a sob escaped his quivering lips. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

"Am I a hero or am I really just… stupid?" In a clumsy manner, he began rubbing away the tears that soon soaked his bandaged knuckles and they weren't stopping. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ Alfred was rubbing roughly and it was beginning to scratch at his dampened cheeks. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

His wails continued when his throat swelled and choking out the sobs just rushed more tears. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ At this point, his face was burning in irritation from the harsh wipes and his eyelids felt the same.

Silence was filled only with the sobs coming from the young man and Ivan had long shut the sliding glass window on the coated partition. He didn't need his driver to hear anything between him and Alfred before the Russian scooted close to other, observing him for a second longer and reaching for his hands to lower them. Ivan now had a better look on the young man's face, even if it was dark but he could make out those tear stained cheeks and those bright blue eyes brimming with more tears.

Ivan placed Alfred's hands gently on his laps and smiled. "It depends on what it is you believe defines a hero, does it not? And what is it that makes you a hero?" He asked, and the young man dropped his head. As far as Ivan knew, heroes for most children, people, tend to show a brave and strong person in a cape, does it not? A person that does everything they believe is right which the Russian was always curious about—what is it that is right for _them_?

With no spare for Alfred to think to answer, the car jumped for overcoming a bump and it made the young man stumble forward to Ivan, who quickly wrapped his arms around him for an embrace that the young man never knew he needed, as he now clutched the other's coat and staining his shirt with all his never-ending tears.

* * *

XXX

* * *

Alfred at first didn't recognize the area they were in when he followed Ivan closely into the apartment building and it hit the young man how tall and how rich it looked with its chic complex exterior, and he saw several people lingering in their own spacious balconies jutting out at each floor his gaze landed at. They were far from the town he resides in which would explain the long ride, and sleepiness tugging at him with his cheeks so puffy, and still red.

Entering the lobby and Alfred was hit with the cool air inside as they walked towards the elevators and Alfred watched one of Ivan's… er, bodyguard? Pressing the button for the Russian and they didn't have to wait long until the door slid open for the pair to step inside.

Growing sleepier with a rumbling stomach, Alfred sighed as he looked over and hesitated to reach for Ivan's hand. He wasn't sure why, he just felt like he wanted to and he couldn't fight the warming sensation growing in his cheeks.

Yet another time he had spent in Ivan's arms and it made his heart beat erratically. He won't deny the feeling bubbling in him, he really likes Ivan, okay?! That, and the fact he's the only one who's seen him in this vulnerable state twice already and… The dude was so big and his hugs are warm, his gestures are always gentle and Alfred couldn't fight from being drawn towards him and it just made the young man grow to crave more of those gestures, to just be wrapped again in Ivan's strong and comforting hold… suddenly all the sleep he felt simply faded away with the wind from these thoughts alone that had his heart running!

He wasn't even aware of how long they had been on this elevator until a loud ding had rang and it completely surprised the young man who almost— _almost_ squeaked but by luck, he coughed into his hand instead. Ivan stepped out and Alfred glanced quickly to the small monitor to see which floor they're on and to his revelation, they're at the very top floor! So Ivan lives in a penthouse, huh?

It was assured further for when they came upon the door and Alfred felt rather intimidated over how large it is. Sure, Ivan is tall, but the door was freaking big! However, that wasn't the only thing that caught the young man in awe, the inside of the place was almost jaw dropping. His home was spacious in its own standard but this place is just so wide and… felt a little empty to Alfred. The furniture ranging from several number of bookshelves, large chairs and a long couch surrounded a table in the middle where books could be seen scattered on top of the ebony surface; everything was there in its own regarded modern style, but maybe it was the general feel of this place that struck the young man with emptiness.

Shiny wooden floor, the open kitchen to the far left with a marble counter across from it that opposed the dining table and chairs. On the table, more books. Stacked and some were lying messily, Alfred noted that there were a lot of books in Ivan's house! Even so, the desolation in the atmosphere hangs as Alfred counted every book in his sight. They were almost everywhere and coming to the living room area, he almost tripped on a few short stacks resting on the carpet of the floor.

He bent down and picked up a book. A hard cover book and he began flipping through the pages rather quickly, because Alfred wasn't one for reading that much. But to think Ivan had this crazy amount of them… the young man whistled and resting it back onto the stack before turning to the shelves. More books.

"I honestly didn't think someone like ya reads a lot," he said, and Alfred ran his fingers across the spine of the books only to pause at a small vase that stood adjacent to the edge of the shelf. Strange, in it, were small and fake sunflowers. Curiously, the young man took one out and inspected the fake flower. Ivan did say he likes sunflowers and it was only then he began noticing that there were more.

Maybe it was because of the dim lighting of this place that made him fail to see these other vases with the fake flowers or because the young man was too distracted by the overwhelming presence of these books—or, because he wasn't paying attention enough? Now he is!

And now he realized, Ivan was nowhere to be seen which prompted Alfred to roam down the hallway he believes will lead to rooms and such, and a few more vases of fake sunflowers but these were larger, it almost stood to Alfred's thighs whilst the flowers were almost as tall as the real ones. At each of the two doors he passed, he counted the vases. Alfred came across a small flight of stairs and skipped over it effortlessly, spotting more vases at the corners and he turned right.

There was a door at the very end. And Alfred honestly felt like this was a set up to a cliché horror movie due to the layer of darkness looming, the silence was filling his mind and Alfred shook his head. For someone like him, to be scared of horror movies is silly, isn't it? He was about to knock but stopped as he saw the door opened ajar.

It was enough for Alfred to hear traces of Ivan's voice speaking, probably on the phone to someone and he was speaking in Russian. Whatever they were talking about, the young man isn't sure but he couldn't deny how nice his accent sounds—the roll of the 'r' and that thick pronunciation of those foreign words were interesting to listen to until it ended and Alfred was given no time to react as he still stood with the flower in his hand. Then, the door opened to reveal the Russian staring down with the all too familiar vacant expression.

"I… Was looking for ya, dude. You have a lot of books, y'know? And who were ya talking to on the phone?" The young man grinned and Ivan's gaze dropped to the bright petals in his hand. Alfred followed his eyes and his grin grew wider.

"Ya mentioned something about liking sunflowers, yeah? It's no wonder there're a lot in this house." Alfred easily chuckled and raising the flower to the other's head, tucking it in above his right ear and the curly locks seemed to hold it in place! "I think it really suits ya!" And Alfred let his hand remained there before his fingers sidled to his cheek. When Ivan pressed into the touch, the young man released a breath he never realized he held and it came out like a sigh of relief when Ivan was smiling.

It had always been the other way around from the couple of time when Ivan cupped his cheeks and now it was Alfred's turn, and he was fond of the Russian's soft cheek that it was beginning to flush red as he hummed softly. "Your hair sometimes reminds me of my favourite flower, Alfred."

To which Alfred raised one eyebrow and snorted at. "Dude, close but no cigar. My hair isn't even _that_ blond. It's darker, can't ya see?" He rubbed his thumb and Ivan closed his eyes.

"Hmm, what you say is true but it's not just your hair. _You_ remind me of what a sunflower is, even if it is funny, that is what I think. Your bright smile and warm hands right now," Ivan placed his hand over Alfred's and his smile stretched. "Sunflowers always make you feel, and think of something warm, don't you think so?"

Ivan didn't let Alfred answer when he felt those bandages and sighed softly. "I suggest we dress your wounds again, what do you say?"

 _Well, yeah, just because I really like it when you hold my hands, because the way you do, it's like holding something so fragile._ The young man nodded without a word and drew his eyes away in a shy manner.

Maybe it really is the sleep, being emotionally drained, between the former and latter is what made the young man wanting to get closer to Ivan at this moment they sat on his bed. And this time, Alfred only watched Ivan as the other worked to peel away the stained bandages and beginning to treat the wounds again.

He wasn't wearing his coat, the vest wasn't present either and Alfred could observe the way the shirt clung on Ivan's form. Bulging against the buff muscles, though it appeared that the Russian's size leans towards being chubby, doesn't it? And that was awfully cute, a chubby Russian man who loves reading and sunflowers! That sort of imagery made the young man laughing softly and it caught Ivan's attention.

Alfred muttered quickly, "It's nothing, it's nothing. Carry on." Damn his imagination! He can't erase it easily, it now bore into his mind and will probably remain there forever! Almost like the small sham of the sunflower still tucked at Ivan's ear, still in place.

Staring at the flower, so many things occurred in his mind. Alfred noted with a sigh, he left his school bag in class. There were probably going to be a lot of homework for today, the calculus teacher was always that way. Relentlessly giving more, and more work. Especially so for the senior year Alfred, he needs to pass the finals and the thought of that made him think of what actually he wants to do after he leaves high school.

He shook his head, _no way would I want to think about that now!_ So the young man focused back at Ivan and the bruises too apparent on his face. Alfred grimaced, he couldn't believe himself for letting his anger get to him and now Ivan looks like a God damn mess.

After Ivan was finished and attempting to put away the things into the first-aid box, Alfred stopped him. Alfred rummaged through the bottles of whatever those things are, antiseptics, iodine, he picked one up to read the label before putting it back. Ivan was confused and Alfred simply told him, "Don't you have anything you can put on your face? I had this cream I once used for aching muscles and it was deep-heat sort of cream, and it worked! So you must have something like that, yeah?"

"Alfred," the call fell on deaf ears when Alfred resumed his searching and he flipped the box upside down. Everything scattered on the bed and Alfred looked through everything, tossing the ball of cottons away, the plasters, the gauzes, it doesn't look like there's anything in here!

"Alfred." The young man stood from the bed with a realizing smile on his lips. "Ice! Ice works the best, so wait for me. There's ice in the freezer of your fridge, right? I'll be right back!"

"Alfred—" The Russian watched with a narrow gaze as the young man darted out of his room. He could hear the other running and didn't wait too long until he stood up and decided to follow after the young man still so energetic at this dead of the night.

Ivan heard various noises and came to a stop at the counter and resting his arms atop of it, seeing the young man bouncing from the freezer with a case of the ice cubes in hand and setting it down to reach up to the cabinets and it earned a glare from Ivan to see Alfred slamming open and close the cabinet doors like that, can't this boy be a little bit gentler? When he pulled out a napkin, he cried "Aha," with such a wide grin and it made Ivan rid of his glare, instead replacing with a gentle gaze to watch the other beaming like that and carrying the things to the counter.

"Alright, big guy. Just sit down and let me handle this for ya!" He said, placing the cubes onto the napkin he soon bundled up. But Alfred was too hasty and quickly pressed the freezing and soaked cloth to the Russian's cheek that he winced and recoiled from it. Alfred hissed a quick, "Whoops," and lowered his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Ivan then chuckled. "I actually have ice packs in the freezer. Did you not notice any?"

Alfred dropped his jaw. "Whaaaaaaat?! Doesn't that mean I just wasted these?! Dude!" He looked like he was about to cry and Ivan almost laughed at this. The young man continued to whine. "I was only trying to help! Damn it, Ivan, don't laugh!"

But alas, try as the Russian wanted to, there was no denying the laughter bubbling and soon escaping his lips which made Alfred blush a very bright red from embarrassment. He only wanted to help but what good did that do? The energetic American just wanted to bury himself at the moment, however, Ivan's laugh was stunning, like music to his ears and it was a gentle sounding laugh that made his heart pound. Damn it, the big guy looks incredibly gorgeous with that huge smile and the wonderful laugh.

So of course, he joined in and smiled as well. Watching the other tugging at his scarf before his laughter died down and Alfred noticed something when the scarf was slightly pulled that it exposed what small sight of the other's neck that had something odd flashing… what were those? Alfred failed to see anything else when it was hidden again by the scarf.

Maybe it was just him, he wasn't even sure what he saw. The lights aren't even that bright in this place and Alfred thought to himself, it must be nothing as he followed the other to the fridge to grab, as Ivan had said, the ice packs Alfred fail to notice in the freezer.

* * *

XXX

* * *

He thought himself as icky and disgusting when he woke up. Not because Alfred couldn't sleep on the same bed as Ivan ( _he'll never admit that out loud to the Russian, nu'uh, not ever_ ,) but because he hadn't washed up. Alfred still wore his clothes from yesterday and by night, he was just so tired to care about anything else safe for being in Ivan's house, being with Ivan, surrounded with books and fake sunflowers.

After helping with the ice packs for Ivan who concluded he was alright even only for a few short seconds he let his face being doused by the coolness, Ivan was quick to lead Alfred to the guestroom he had woken up in. The other didn't even let him massage his face, even if he doesn't even know the basic moves for any kind of massages. He just wanted to help!

Alfred took out his phone and groaned for receiving no response after he continuously pressed the single button at the bottom of the screen. His phone is dead and he threw it on the bed.

Matthew must have at least called or something, and he needed to know if his brother was still at Carlos's place. Or back at home. With papa, and pops… His expression dropped at the mere thought of his father and all events transpired yesterday flashed at him. Arthur's fury, accusation, and the run. Running away from that man felt like a maddening thrill he never experienced before.

Run, and run, and running away from him was like fleeing from something. Fleeing from the danger, fleeing from the _oppression_? And, fleeing to independence.

When his eyes glossed over to the clock hung on the wall that was directly situated above the frame of the bed, it showed the time to be 08:11AM. Alfred felt awfully hungry and closed the door behind him after stepping out.

The place was so damn dark, the lights were off and the young man begrudgingly made his way to the massive living room, stepping and tripping over the books, to draw open the curtains. Let there be light, and the shine from the sun swam in! Albeit squinting, Alfred smiled as bright as the sun now that the place was brightened enough. If that didn't suffice, Alfred was able to unlock the glass doors and open them.

The balcony was huge and Alfred awestruck at the view from this height that it could offer. The sky especially was the brightest blue in this morning and as much as he'd like to stay out here, stare longer, his grumbling stomach was calling for food.

So the young man skipped to the kitchen and rummaged through whatever food and ingredient available, and he settled for eggs and toast. He found sausages too, so that could work! Alfred was excellent at frying eggs and if sunny side ups weren't enough, he prepared scrambled eggs as well before discreetly hiding the pack with what's left after using around four of them, in hopes Ivan wouldn't be too angry!

In the midst of his cooking, Alfred found himself chuckling over how domesticated this routine was even if he is always in charge of the kitchen every Sunday morning with his family. As hard as his pops could get, the man still respected his authority every weekend for the food and that made him smile. _Man, what I'd give to go back to that if only things weren't so screwed up right now_.

And what he would give for Ivan to walk up and hugging him from behind, nuzzling into the crook of his neck to ask what's cooking for this morning. But that heart-throbbing imagination only served to almost burn the scrambled eggs the young man quickly poured into a bowl.

He couldn't erase the blush and damn it, it was hard to focus to start cooking the stupid sausages. When the breads jumped out of the toaster, it distracted him for a full minute and he was glad for it, he could now continue preparing breakfast for he, and Ivan.

Ivan who has yet to be seen, Alfred noted. Maybe the big guy wasn't much of an early riser? Alfred had begun setting the table after much work he did to clear the books away by moving them over to the marble top counter. Strangest thing was, most of the books he held were shown to be marked at certain pages and Alfred was dangled with the question, did Ivan finished reading any of these books or…? They were all just left untouched and some opened to the pages that were marked.

The books as well, he noticed, ranged from classical literature to collections of poetry. The classics he noticed were Lewis Carol's, Charles Dicken's, big names here! Jane Austen. Grimm Brothers, and not surprisingly, Edgar Allen Poe. One name was odd for the young man, Pushkin. The pages he flipped through were poems after poems, though he never heard of this author.

Once the table was cleared of every book, Alfred placed down the plates, and cutleries. There was a box of orange juice and he poured the content into two glasses for him and Ivan.

Now to just fetch Ivan.

And breakfast was only filled with Alfred's chatters.

The young man spilled every word and any word came into mind to lighten up the meal they had together.

But, Ivan was quiet. The brief nods and an expressionless feature contrasted the young man's bright grin and glimmering eyes threatening to dim over the worry for the Russian.

Ivan was still quiet and Alfred was running out of topics to talk about until a ring pierced through, then the Russian quickly took out his phone to answer the call.

Alfred took the last bite out of his food and watched the other retreating into the kitchen, talking to whomever it concerned on the other line about whatever it is—hearing the faint Russian speech wasn't helping in dropping a single hint!

But the call was over soon. Alfred wanted to clear the table as the two of them had finished their meal on the plates when Ivan spoke to him, "I will send you home right now. I have work to attend to right after, so do not worry about those."

"No way," Alfred huffed. "I cooked and I might as well clean, but it won't take too long! I" A flash of his signature grin and Ivan turned away. "Alright."

And it really didn't take long at all, the young man was done as soon as he stepped foot into the kitchen to wash every dish by hand for not daring to touch the dishwasher; he simply wanted to do all the handwork! Whilst a thought ran at the back of his mind, Ivan was acting… strange.

Strange as in, more quiet than before and after the call, the other seemed to want to rush everything after sending him home… Alfred dried the last of the forks quickly and stuffing them into the drawer. He jogged out of the kitchen to see the Russian was closing the balcony doors and pulling the curtains.

"Ivan," he called and the addressed male shifted his head slightly towards him. "Don't send me home yet! Can you just send me to this skating park? I know where it is, I'll just show ya the directions."

A curt nod and Alfred excused himself to the guest room to fetch his phone, stupidly out of battery! Soon he followed Ivan out of the house and the taller male walked fast. Alfred had to almost run after him just to catch up to the elevators.

Ivan was completely silent and his fists were drawn. Those violet eyes that was supposed to reflect his gentle smile instead showed nothing. It was blank of any emotions and seeing him without a smile was unsettling. What was Ivan thinking about?

Slowly, Alfred gathered every will in him to reach out and grab the edge of the man's sleeve. He immediately looked over and the young man bore his gaze at him. "Hey, big guy. Are ya alright? You just seem, uh, I don't know—" He paused, shrugging. "You kinda look like you're ready to kill a man."

 _DING_!

Both heads turned to watch the metallic door sliding open and Ivan stared at the floor they were on. The second floor, and Alfred caught the small plaque beside the number of the floor, it read that the floor was a recreational floor. Swimming pools, gym, playground, but this wasn't the floor they're supposed to be on.

Perhaps, someone else stepping in? But there was no one. So Alfred pushed the buttons to close the door and found there was no response.

If one time doesn't work, twice should tie the deal!

 _Wrong_.

"Aw, damn it! Are we stuck on this floor or something just because this stupid thing is broken?" The young man soon chuckled and stepped out. "There are stairs, right? And we're just heading to the lobby floor so, let's go?"

Ivan however, didn't move.

"Alfred, get back inside."

The young man tilted his head. He looked left, right, the corridor shining awfully white was desolated. The transparent multiple glass doors were to the far left and he could hear a soft trail of noise, splashing waters to laughter, and he offered a shrug. "Why? It doesn't look like that thing's gonna move anytime soon, I mean, we're still here! Let's take the stairs."

Though, he isn't sure where it is but if he follows the path, he's bound to find it, right? So the young man turned and began walking, only coming to a stop after taking one step to see that the two other elevators halted at this floor. The doors opened.

" _ALFRED_!"

Everything was so quick. Alfred thought they were Ivan's bodyguards but if Ivan pulled him back and drew his gun out, it was clear to the young man that these men were enemies!

The trigger was pulled once, twice, Alfred heard bodies falling and he failed to register the sight of the blood flooding the white floor.

Who was this that cocked his gun at the young man? His instincts kicked in and he acted swiftly. Knocking the gun out was top priority before taking this man down who stood several inches taller but Alfred had a greater advantage in speed, it was proved when he successfully ducked the oncoming punches.

He latched his arms around the attacker's neck and the man struggled in his hold, driving the two towards a wall he slammed Alfred against which loosened it and almost setting the man free if it weren't for his split second decision to hold on again tighter, digging his fingers into the head and jaw, and _snap_!

They both tumbled forward. Alfred wasn't given a moment longer to realize, the irregular angle the man's head below him that was twisted at was a clear sign he just killed him! That was what the loud crack was?!

A kick was sent to his stomach and the young man was thrown to the side. Another kick and a cough spluttered from his lips. Alfred grabbed the man's leg, swivelling him to send him falling and he quickly climbed over to punch him, stop him from even pointing a stupid gun at his face!

But his opponent was stronger, and overwhelmed him. Alfred was caught by his arms and pushed off, sending him staggering on the floor.

The nozzle of a gun was aimed at his head but the attacker before him dropped to his knees. Blood oozed out of the side of his head and Alfred stared.

 _What's happening, who are these people, why are they trying to kill us, how do we stop them_ …?

Blood, blood, blood, _holy God_ , he only noticed now, there was so much blood on the floor. It's so red, so red, so _red_ , _what is happening_?

His ears were ringing, his stomach shot up with pain and it hurt. _What is happening_? Alfred stood and backed away from the body, bodies, he found himself pressed to the windows yet he couldn't hear anything. The street was outside, the cars were outside, the people were outside, why wasn't there any noise? Everything was somewhat silenced to him by the loud ringing and the violent beating of his heart. There was so much blood, it's so red, bodies clad in black clothing laid sprawled on the floor and Alfred couldn't begin to count any.

Was Ivan the only one left? Was Ivan the one approaching him right now?

Ivan didn't have brown hair, Ivan wouldn't grasp the young man by his neck in an attempt of strangling him which Alfred retaliated from, flailing with his legs to kick the other but he was rammed against the window and it pushed open.

This man with brown hair was heavy and only realized the situation unfolding before him. The young man with blue eyes wide in fear struggled to breathe but he felt light.

Alfred only remembered the menacing look disappearing from the man's eyes before he felt a pierce that shot through his skull and blackness clouded in an instant.

* * *

XXX


End file.
